Please Remember Me
by elle-nora
Summary: Now Complete! Both a sequel to and a prequel of "Stolen Child", this story chronicles the 800 year relationship of Darius and Eleanor.
1. A Wake for the Last Millennium

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Highlander: _Please Remember Me_

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Contents:

Author's Preface

Chapter One: A Wake for the Past Millennium

Chapter 1: To Each His Garden

Chapter Two: Lovers Lost

Chapter 2A: To Everything a Season--Spring

Chapter 2B: To Everything a Season--Summer

Chapter 2C: To Everything a Season--Autumn

Chapter 2D: To Everything a Season--Winter

Chapter Three: Journey

Chapter 3A: Destination

Chapter 3B: A Simple Gift

Chapter Four: Truce

Chapter 4A: To Regain Trust

Chapter 4B: Lost in the Darkness

Chapter Five: Oracle

Chapter 5A: Seeking Truth

Chapter 5B: Close Another Door

Chapter 5C: Who Watches the Watchers?

Chapter 5D: The Power of Sacrifice

Chapter Six: Trinity

Chapter 6: In Mead, There is Memory

Chapter Seven: Absent Friends

Chapter 7A: After the Night, Comes the Dawn

Chapter 7B: Behind the Mask

Chapter Eight: Left Behind

Chapter 8A: To Everything a Purpose

Chapter 8B: To Embrace the Future

Chapter Nine: Peace at Last

Author's Notes

Historical Afterword

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Author's Preface: Please note that this story plays out in both forward and reverse timelines. The Chapters headed by the words of numbers (one, two, three etc.) are the forward frame story, set on the Island of Niebos in 2003, while those with Arabic numerals (1, 2, 3 etc.) are the flashbacks of Eleanor and Darius in reverse time order. They begin in 1993 and work backwards to 1164 when they first met. Because of the length of some of the flashbacks, I sub-divided some of the chapters for ease of posting (i.e. 2A, 2B, 2C etc.). Trust me on this... it will all make sense when we get to the end of the story.

Parts of two of the flashbacks listed as Chapters 5A and 6 appeared in another form as scenes which I rejected from using in "Stolen Child" to which this story is both sequel and prequel. 

On names and characters: Darius, Methos, Grayson, the Watchers, Kronos, Cassandra, Hugh Fitzcairn, Ian Bancroft, Alexa Bond and Duncan MacLeod are from the series. Ramirez is from the first film. I have only borrowed them or their names for the purposes of this story. I acknowledge the creative genius of the "_Highlander_" cast, writers, production staff, and all who brought these characters to life. I also acknowledge the original creative genius of Greg Widen for his concept. I hope I am true to their vision.

In this story, Methos is also known to Eleanor as Edward Gray or Antoninus, until after about 1882. 

After 1164, Aella thinks of herself as Eleanor, but frequently uses the name Marie among mortals. For her earlier background and her relationship with Methos, please refer to "Crossroads of Time."

The Lady or Aja of "Crossroads of Time" are one and the same.

For Derrick's story and for additional information on Joaquin Carrera, see "Stolen Child."

For additional information on Phillip and his teacher Danae, please see "A Loaf of Bread, a Jug of Wine." This story is still only alluded to here. Someday I may tell the entire story.

For more information about O ro' dred, see "Crossroads of Time." His story and that of Nin are also ones I may tell sometime if people are interested.

I hope all is now clear. I do not think in linear time, so I hope you, gentle readers, can also do the mental gymnastics needed to follow the story.

One last thing, I pray I don't offend anyone with this portrait of Darius. It was very difficult to write. Let me know what you think! Like all writers I appreciate any and all comments. 

Peace!

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Highlander: _Please Remember Me_

Cast your eye on the ocean,

Cast your soul to the sea,

When the dark night seems endless,

Please remember me_._

~from Dante's Prayer, music and lyrics by Loreena McKennitt

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Chapter One

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A Wake for the Past Millennium

Island of Niebos, Greece 2003

Eleanor leaned on the rail of the ferry and watched as the small private island of Niebos grew in her sight. It looked much the same as it always had since she had first seen it almost two hundred years before. Only the means of transportation to this small jewel of an island had changed. That and perhaps the size of the village huddled at the foot of the mountain on the harbor side of the island.

Her immortal friend Phillip had called this place home since he had finished purchasing the last of the land almost two hundred years ago. But Phillip had been a part of Niebos and its secrets for over two millennia. 

Eleanor shook her head, even with her great age; she still had trouble with Phillip's greater age. He was the _Peter Pan_ of her life... the immortal who never seemed to grow up... an immortal who had always searched for a good time and his next drink for as long as she had known him. "_Well, things change and time catches us all_" she thought. It was because of Phillip that she had come here.

After settling things in the states... after the Highlander, Duncan MacLeod had killed Joaquin Carerra and helped her settle the ten year old Derrick in a foster home, she had vanished from that life as she had always done from all her previous lives... suddenly and mysteriously. She still hoped to keep in touch with Derrick, but that might mean MacLeod as well and Eleanor wasn't certain she could manage that... not yet.

The whole thing about going to him for help had been damned uncomfortable. She had tried so hard not to betray anything... but MacLeod had asked many hard questions... perceptive questions. Questions she was not yet ready to deal with... if she ever would... if she ever could. But he had seen Derrick too... and he had also noticed something about the boy. Maybe it wasn't all in her head after all.

The ferryboat gave a loud wail of its siren as it approached the long stone docks of Niebos. Already Eleanor could see the familiar figure of Phillip on the wharf. She raised her arm to wave a greeting and was met by an enthusiastic two-handed wave of welcome from her friend and teacher.

When she had checked her email account at one of those inter-net cafes there had been two messages. One of them had been a fairly recent one from Methos with only a "_?_" which she knew meant, "_Are you OK? Contact me when ready._" She had added his new address to her address book on-line and then deleted the message. She wasn't ready to talk to him any time soon. She was still too angry with him and she did not trust herself. The last time they had been together they had come to blows. She was not eager for another altercation. Best to wait on that.

The other message had been from Phillip. "_Carlo dead._" That message was four months old. For Eleanor, it was as if a dam had broken. The news had been expected for well over a year... but she hadn't meant to miss it... she had meant to come and support Phillip as he had tried to support her for all these years. But she had missed it. She had been so much on the run that she hadn't checked messages in quite a while. Even if she had, Eleanor wondered if she could have left Derrick then, and extricated herself from the entire Carrera situation. She doubted it. But now, there was nothing to stop her.

"_On my way._" she had immediately sent and then bought her ticket for Greece with her next inter-net transaction. So here she was... two days later.

The ferry tied up along the wharf and she waved down again at Phillip who blew kisses and waved at her once more in that gratuitous enthusiasm he always seemed to have. Already Eleanor was looking forward to whatever time together they would have before she pulled up stakes and took off again.

She shouldered the small overnight bag and descended the gangplank to the wharf after the ferry had completely halted. Once on the docks, she ran to meet Phillip who enfolded her in his big bear hug, lifted her briefly off her feet, and with his booming voice welcomed her to "_his_" island.

He held on to her for a long moment and she held on to him. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here, Phillip... I'm so very sorry for your loss."

"You were here in spirit Little Sister, you were here." He dropped his arms from around her and held her out to get a better look at her. "Gods, you are far too thin... you look like you haven't eaten in months!"

Eleanor tossed her head and laughed briefly. "Well, you should have seen me a few weeks ago."

Phillips eyes narrowed, "You will tell me all about it later. First, we're off to the villa and a late breakfast. You need to eat something and don't tell me you're fine... I know you too well!" he spoke through her attempt at interrupting him. He did know her well, and that could be both help and hindrance.

She gestured her compliance. He took her bag and hugging her with one of his arms, he led her through the dirt road village and up the hill to the villa he had built so long ago. The whole time he talked about improvements he wanted to make... a new hospital he hoped to build... and the unusual reluctance of the villagers for anything that might change their lives. It was hard to be a landlord sometimes.

He waited until they were halfway up the hill and the ferry had departed to lay the bombshell on her. "Methos will be here, likely on the afternoon ferry. I emailed him you were coming."

Eleanor froze on the road. Phillip patiently stood next to her until she was ready. Then something occurred to her. "He finally told you who he truly was?"

"Last time he was here. He was with a pretty little mortal girl... Alexa. He was quite taken with her."

"Really..." Suddenly Eleanor relaxed. "Did she know...?"

"Oh yes... she even knew his name although she called him Adam the whole time they were here. I do think our ancient friend is mellowing a bit in his old age."

Eleanor laughed suddenly very relieved. "So, he has finally found love. Well I hope he's happy. Will she be coming to?"

Phillip sadly shook his head, "No... she died not long after they were here. I think it almost broke his heart. She was ill even when they were here. She and Carlo used to sit on the terrace in the sunshine and talk about their respective on-coming deaths. He painted her picture while they were here. I sent it to Methos when I heard she'd died."

With those words, Eleanor's ten-year grudge against her former husband, one-time teacher, and some-time lover evaporated. "Then it's a wake for all of us this time... not just for the century past," she said sadly. Leave it to Phillip to put petty quarrels into perspective.

Phillip nodded soberly. "I think it may be for the entire millennium what with this turn of the calendar and all the madness that seems to be going on in the world now."

Eleanor smiled thoughtfully; she knew what Darius would have said to that, _"The world is always filled with madness."_ She sobered and took Phillip's arm once more to resume their climb to the villa, "Then it shall be a grand party this time." But her heart wasn't in her words.

***

Late that afternoon, the two immortals met their ancient friend at the docks when the afternoon ferry arrived. As usual, Phillip tried to be the bridge between them... the genial host. 

Eleanor had let her hate and grudge evaporate... but she still felt uncomfortable and Methos obviously felt the same. He was still the observer... betray nothing he had once taught her. It was a lesson he had also taken to heart far too well. She did not know what he thought. She could not fathom what lay behind that icy exterior. 

"Mellowed indeed," she finally murmured and gave him a brief smile. 

He chuckled and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead, "Hello Eleanor, charming as always!" Somehow, it was all going to work out... at least for the weekend. She no longer thought they would come to blows. Not this time. But she didn't trust him.

**Chapter 1**

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To Each His Garden

Paris, France 1993

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Eleanor quietly folded the last of her few clothes and packed them into the soft-sided suitcase. Over at the window, in defiance of all their carefully constructed rules of behavior stood Darius. He was here... it was daylight... and he was in "her" room.

"You are really going then." He said to her as he stared out the window.

"I have to go... there is so much death and hatred going on in Angola right now. I am needed there as I have not been needed anywhere in years."

"But you only just returned."

"Give me a reason to stay..." But he said nothing. She had known he wouldn't. Eleanor looked about the sparsely furnished room she had spent so many years in. For all of her time here, the room bore no imprint of her personality. It was just a room... a place for her to stay when in town. She shrugged. There really was nothing for her here anymore, if there had ever been.

She closed and locked the bag. "That's it. The taxi should be here soon." She lifted the bag, carried it into the main room and set it near the door. She took a long look around. This was "his" room and it was filled with many of the treasures she had brought back for him in her journeys over the past eight hundred years. These were the souvenirs that were not quite appropriate to be in his cell across the street. Or the artifacts he simply did not want there... things he did not think would be safe.

Eleanor shrugged. If it made him happy to sneak over here occasionally when she was out of town and do his research in peace... whom was she to complain. She had been here so seldom of late. Since 1969, she had not dared to remain anywhere too long. Joaquin Carerra kept showing up and she would not risk his finding out she knew Darius. Darius was far too easy a target. No one knew that better than she did. No... better Angola with its rising tribal warfare... She could vanish there for a while... and she could help. The medical mission was just what she needed to get back into the pattern of her life. And more than anything else, she needed to get back into her life... to be in control as Methos had once taught her.

She glanced up as Darius slowly followed her into the main room. As before, he went over to the window, to keep an eye on his church and an eye on anyone who might walk by... on any immortal who might be seeking him.

"You could come you know... to Angola with me..." It was an old request. She made it every time she left. No matter where she was going... she always asked him to come. It had become ritual... a part of their good-bye to one another. He would always smile and shrug. This was his place. If she wished to visit, she was always welcome here. "They need lots of doctors and other medical personnel... and..." she paused emphatically... they could even use a priest or two."

Darius chuckled. "Do you ever get tired of asking me to leave?"

"No... But I accept that you won't."

"Perhaps some day I will surprise you."

"Liar!" and she laughed and crossed the room to give him a farewell hug. He held her for a moment longer than he might have and then released her.

"I will miss you, Eleanor, as I always do."

"Ahh... but I will miss you more." Eleanor stood on tiptoe and gave him a brief peck on the cheek. Then she backed away and his hands returned to within his sleeves. Below them in the street, the taxi pulled up. "Now that would be my cue to leave." 

She saluted him mockingly and picked up her bag. She paused with her hand on the door. "Don't follow me down. We've said our good-byes and I shall see you soon... perhaps in as little as seven years when my tour in Angola is over. Sooner if you come to see me."

"I must tend my garden." They both smiled at the reference to "Candide."

"And I like the child of nature wander hither and fro. Voltaire et Rousseau!" She bowed as though in a performance, smiled, nodded her head in farewell and left. Once again, it was part of the old argument. An argument that these days had become a gentle teasing.

In the street below she had glanced up at him in the window and saw him raise a hand in parting. She could almost hear him say, "Peace be with you, Eleanor." She hoped so. She hoped there would be peace. But she doubted she would ever find it. It was an elusive thing... peace.

***

It was the last time she had seen him. Methos had arrived in Angola a few months later to tell her Darius was dead. She had sensed his coming and, thinking Darius had finally changed his mind, had turned eagerly to greet him. But it wasn't Darius... it was Methos in his guise as Adam Pierson, mild-mannered researcher for the Watchers. The look on his face told her instantly that something had happened.

"Phillip...?" she had stammered. Methos shook his head sadly. "Then who...?"

"Darius."

Within her, all the voices screamed! "Noooo!" she cried out and collapsed to the ground. "No...no... no!" When he tried to comfort her, she had lashed out, raining ineffective blows on him and screaming her denial! "Liar... liar... liar..."

But he was stronger and held her tightly until she was exhausted. She was vaguely aware of some of the other mission personnel gathering around and expressing their concern. She heard Methos explain that he was her cousin... that a family member had died... he would deal with it. He had gathered her small frame up into his arms and carried her into the tent she called home and then sat there holding her until her sobs had finally ceased.

"How... who...?" she finally said.

"We don't really know, yet." By 'we' she knew he meant the Watchers.

"It's your job to know!" Eleanor flung the accusation at him. "You were supposed to be watching him, making certain he was safe! It's your fault!"

"Bancroft was called to London for a conference. His replacement never showed. All we know for certain is that Darius is dead."

"No... no... no!" her voice trailed off. Then an idea occurred to her. "You know how he likes to play his little games... maybe he's in hiding... getting ready to pop up somewhere else. Maybe he has just finally left holy ground... maybe... maybe..." Eleanor's mind raced at the possibilities. "He'll come... you'll see. He's not dead? He can't be dead!"

Methos shook his head sadly.

Eleanor began to moan as she shook her head... "It's my fault. I told him he wasn't safe on holy ground... I told him to leave. I always told him to leave... It's all my fault! He must have left and been caught. Carrera? It's my fault! Mine!" She buried her face in her hands and sobbed once more her voice rising in a wail. "We never had a chance. We never..." Suddenly she wanted to die. What was the use of living now!

She rolled off the cot and pulled her short sword from beneath the mattress to lash out suddenly at Methos. "Fight me... fight me now!"

Before she could get close enough to him, his own sword was out. Methos deflected her blows... one by one until he could get inside her defenses. Then he disarmed her and wrapped his arms about her until her self-destructive rage had passed.

Finally she looked up at him and her eyes narrowed. "I hate you!... I hate you!" She pulled away. "Go away! Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again! I don't ever want to look up and see you there! I want you gone! You should be the one dead!" Within her Kae Dhun smiled, his rage simmering beneath hers. "If I see you again... I will kill you!"

Methos stared at her... perhaps only then beginning to recognize that there was more here than just a student bemoaning the death of her teacher. He had nodded curtly, "Then I think I had better leave." And he left. And she was alone with her grief.

And she had never forgiven him for telling her. No matter that he had wanted to break it to her gently so that she would not learn of Darius' death from anyone else. Methos had known how she would react... but she thought even he had been surprised at the released rage she had felt and at the depth of her grief.

***

She had played that last scene with Darius over and over in her mind for the last decade. She should have known! She should have made him leave! She should have stayed with him and protected him! Somehow, she could never get beyond that moment, and now she felt empty, old and all used up inside. She was weary of this immortal life and wanted it over. She couldn't change that day, no matter how hard she tried. In the end she always left and Darius always died.

Then four years ago she had found six year old Derrick under that highway bridge and she recalled what Methos had once told her of her own long-forgotten childhood... of how he had sensed something of Aja in her and had wondered about it. Now she wondered if somehow Derrick had something of Darius' great spirit within him. She had clung to the boy because of it... but in the end she had let him go. If there were something... it might still be there later... if there was a later. 

She could wait... but as for Darius himself... he was dead and nothing and no one would ever replace him. She had to find a way to move beyond that moment. But Eleanor had not yet found a way.

She began the scene once more in her mind. It was a running commentary, as it had been every moment of every day for the past ten years... but no matter how she tried... it was always the same. If she had known... what would she have done? What would she not have done? 

Once more, within her mind, she bent to fold the last of her clothes...


	2. Lovers Lost

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Chapter Two

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Lovers Lost

Niebos, Greece 2003

After a late dinner the three immortals gathered for brandy on the terrace. Around them the house quietly settled as Phillip's servants were dismissed for the evening and returned to their homes in the village below. Below them in the night air, Eleanor could hear their voices as they made their way down the mountain.

She settled onto the comfortable chaise and folded her legs beneath her while quietly observing her friends. They were discussing the merits of brandy, as though it were a topic they had never before discussed. She doubted there was any beverage left they had not talked about. Those two had been at this since they had initially met in Rome in the first century. The merits of spirits was always one of their first discussions.

Phillip's brown hair was longer than when last she had seen him, six years ago. He'd let it grow chin length... but it seemed just grown out... not styled. His beard was slightly longer and a bit straggly too. Perhaps these were subtle signs of his grieving. He wore white cotton trousers... clam diggers she thought she had once heard them called, a faded chambray shirt and scuffed leather sandals. Somehow, he no longer looked like the fable "Swordmaster" of her youth. He was just a genial middle-aged looking man with a big booming voice and a tendency to drink too much. She wondered if he could still wield a blade as he used to. She wondered if he even wanted to.

Methos on the other hand looked very smooth. He had obviously dropped the Adam Pierson persona of research geek for the Watchers and looked for all the world like some very dangerous gangster or drug lord in his sleek silk shirt, Italian leather shoes, and crisply pressed khaki pants. Sleek and dangerous... yes, that was it. She could almost smell a recent quickening on him. "_So,_" she thought, "_not only is he more free about who he is... he is once more in the game._" She shuddered. He glanced up from his brandy and eyed her darkly over it but said nothing.

Her own appearance she knew was telling. For one thing, Phillip was right, she was dangerously thin. But food had not seemed important to her in ages. She could not remember the last time she had eaten with any sort of appetite. For years she had eaten if food were placed in front of her... but only then and only a few bites. Just enough to satisfy whoever was trying to get her to eat.

At meals today with Phillip she had tried to eat... but although she had pushed food around on the plate... she had actually taken in very little... but she had tried. Given time in this place and with Phillip to help, perhaps she could do better. 

She had bobbed her hair after the incident in the states; glad to be rid of the last of the greasy blonde-streaked locks she had worn for so long. Her hair was its own dark black again and the cut made it move in a graceful arc when she danced. Eleanor smiled recalling that last dance with Derrick the day she had left. She had wanted him to see her at her best, once before she left. One of the truly great improvements of the past century had been the sudden change in women's hairstyles. She hated it long now. She had worn it long for centuries. With the shearing of her locks, she had tasted freedom.

The pale green linen sheath she wore, buttoned down the front, only accented her thinness though. That and her thin arms sticking out from the sleeveless dress. Eleanor knew Methos had given her attire a quick once over to assess where her weapon was. She knew he knew. And he knew she knew he knew. She took a small sip of the brandy... feeling it was wasted on her. She would have as soon had water.

She focused on the men's conversation trying to pick up the thread of it.

"So I have decided not to fly anywhere any more. With all this going on... it's next to impossible to get a sword onto a plane. And I don't like the thought of being without mine while waiting at the baggage claim. What if they lost my baggage? What would I do then?" Phillip hadn't been anywhere in years, but that hadn't stopped him from expressing an opinion about new airline security rules.

"Yes, they are very careful these days." Methos had agreed. As always he seemed to take it in but gave nothing away. "How did you manage?" He looked at her.

Eleanor shrugged and smiled. What he didn't know might give her an edge if it came to it. She set the brandy on the table. "So what's the agenda this time Phillip?"

"I thought we might take the Pilgrim's Path up Mt. Niebos tomorrow to the temple complex ruins and then down to the beach. Low tide is scheduled for early afternoon."

"Not the Pilgrim's Path..." Methos was obviously not pleased. "We can just as easily go around by the beach."

"Ahh... my friend... then you miss the point. It is not the destination but the journey that is important... and..." he paused for dramatic effect, "I thought we would go barefoot." Phillip made a mocking face at both of his friends as they groaned at the thought.

"It will give us all time to face our losses," he finished up soberly. "I think we all need that." His words were met with a silent affirmation. They did need that... all of them. "We can make an early night of it tonight... get a good night's rest and then leave first thing tomorrow. Are we agreed?"

"We are agreed..." the less than enthusiastic Methos and Eleanor said together. It was an old, old game and if this is what Phillip wanted this was what they would do. He had always been the planner of their many escapades over the centuries. It was he who had always set the tone.

"Now," said Phillip changing the topic, "what did you think of Carlo's murals?" 

Eleanor settled back to listen to them... her two teachers... her two oldest friends... discussing art... painting techniques... and eventually their mortal loves recently lost. 

Since she had never met this Alexa that had charmed Methos, she was content to just listen. From what he said of her... Eleanor thought she would have liked her. She could still see an edge of grief in his eyes when he spoke of her, although it had been several years. They had had such a short time together. He had wanted to show her the world before it was too late. He had failed. But what he had shown her... was special. Eleanor had seldom seen this side of her friend. Only rarely... and never for long.

As for Carlo... Eleanor smiled. She hadn't known him well, but since Phillip had met him in Rome in 1980 she had flitted in and out of their lives. Carlo knew they were immortal. Phillip had shared that with him fairly early in the relationship. He had seldom done that with his companions... but the artist had a passion for getting the details right... and that meant learning and understanding the long past of Phillip. And Phillip had always loved to tell stories. 

When she had met Carlo, he had looked at her as if she were some kind of threat... but then as the tales were told, he had begun to sketch their adventures as caricatures. Now some of those were incorporated into some of the murals on the villa walls. Her favorite mural was the one at the end of the hall. To anyone unfamiliar with the immortals' story, it merely appeared as though some artist had painted some friends of his as Dumas' "**_Three Musketeers_**." Phillip was painted as Porthos... Methos was Athos... she, complete with mustache and goatee, was D'Artagnan. And in the background... not quite one of them was Darius as Aramis.

Eleanor shook her head and re-focused on the conversation. They were toasting them all now... all the mortals they had loved over the years... all the brief lights in their long lives that had burned brightly for a portion of a single lifetime and then burned out. They looked at her expectantly to add to the list but she shook her head. She had nothing to add. Not this time.

It wasn't that she had never been in love, she had. She just wasn't ready to share them. Not the most recent ones... not now... but the discussion had finally helped her thoughts gradually move beyond the mantra of the last time she had seen Darius... and backward in time... each event further and further back. Some of them brought a smile to her face... some did not. But at least they were memories other than that last aborted farewell that she could not change.

When she retired to her room and climbed into the wide bed alone... it was those events she dreamed of...

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Chapter 2A

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To Everything a Season

Paris, Spring 1980

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Eleanor walked purposely into the church, but there was a slight skipping motion to her stride. She could sense Darius alone in his cell, but as there were several parishioners milling about, she genuflected piously in the nave before knocking at his door and quietly entering.

He was seated at his table working on some papers.

"Just what the hell were you thinking," she tossed out teasingly as she closed the door behind her. Normally it would remain open but she did not want anyone to overhear them. 

"Good day to you too, Eleanor!" Darius smiled and then returned to studying his papers, all the while tapping the fountain pen absently against the side of his head.

Eleanor crossed the room and snatched the papers out of his hands and held them above her head. "You sent your Watcher to spy on me at the hospital!"

"If you are referring to Ian Bancroft... he wanted to know where you worked. I believe he wanted to ask you to dinner."

Eleanor glanced around at the closed door and lowered her voice, "But he's your Watcher!"

"I am aware of that fact... now may I please have my sermon back." He reached for the papers. She held them higher. He sighed and laid the pen down and leaned back in his chair. "I will not argue with you."

"Don't you think it was just a little bit odd that he wanted to have dinner with me?" She tossed the papers back on his table and paced about the room. "I was absolutely floored when he showed up at the emergency room. I didn't know what to do..."

"I'm certain you managed." Darius righted the papers and began studying them once more. "Besides, he seems like a very nice man despite his occupation."

"He is a nice man... but a date?" Eleanor stopped pacing and flung herself into one of the hard wooden chairs. She crossed her ankles and folded her arms across her chest.

"So... where are you going?"

"We're not... I told him I'd just gotten out of a relationship and was not interested in a new one. And that's the truth." She uncrossed her arms. "Don't worry... I was nice to him. I told him maybe we could be friends."

"I am certain you broke his heart."

"Hah! Opera! He wanted to take me to the Opera! You know how I loathe the opera!"

Darius chuckled, "I am certain he would have accommodated a request for a different venue on your part."

"Well... I did say maybe we could check out some jazz and blues clubs some time" She smiled wickedly and arched both of her eyebrows... "Then to top it off he wanted to introduce me to some friend of his who knew a lot about jazz." Eleanor sulked, "Probably another Watcher."

"So when are you going?" Darius made a correction on his sermon.

"I don't know yet. I haven't made up my mind. Do you want me to go? Do you have something you need for me to discover from them? Do you need me to go undercover among them again?" She was almost eager for an assignment! More so than she had been in several years.

"Not at this time. If you go... try to have a pleasant time." Darius smiled as though it were an end to the conversation.

Eleanor pushed her glasses up over her nose with her middle finger... smiled mockingly at the priest and left.

Maybe she should go on this date that wasn't a date. Darius was playing too many games with his Watchers. He should just tell them he knew about them and then let them interview him. Maybe she could let something slip to Bancroft... maybe... maybe not. 

Anyway...she didn't really think "she" was in their files. She hadn't been the last time she had slipped inside their ranks. The most that was in their records were obtuse allusions to a "green eyed" immortal no one could quite remember how to describe. The references were older than she was. Likely Aja was the source of many of them. Some of the rest were Eleanor herself. But the others...? She didn't know who they were.

She glanced up at the gathering clouds in the pale blue sky. It might rain, she thought and once more adjusted the glasses she wore in this life over her brown tinted contact lenses and tossed her auburn hair. She was in disguise. 

She doubted Joaquin Carrera would find her again... but she didn't want to take any chances. She wasn't afraid for herself... he had already made it quite clear he didn't want her head and she already knew she could defeat him. She had easily run him through with her short sword in Hawaii eleven years ago... but she had controlled the urge to be done with him. He was so young and maybe, if he lived long enough, he might finally learn something and move beyond the hatreds leftover from his mortal life. Besides, she feared his hatred might upset her own carefully constructed balance between self-destructive madness, rage, and calm.

Eleanor had had no further dealings with him since then, but it might only be a matter of time. She didn't want to risk letting another mortal into her life again just so the Chilean madman could threaten to kill them. No... It was best to keep her distance. If only she dared take his head... Eleanor shuddered. Within her the raging madness that had once been Kae Dhun laughed maniacally. It was such a balancing act sometimes... she did not want to lose herself again. She had worked too long and too hard for her balance. She wouldn't lose it now.

When she passed a blues club on her way back to the hospital, she almost stopped and went in for a drink. But she had no time for dancing... not today... not this lifetime. She hurried past.

***

****

Chapter 2B

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To Everything a Season

Paris, Summer 1965

__

"Lift your foot and then hop like this." Eleanor quickly danced the steps to the Jewish traditional dance and waited while she watched to see if Darius could manage them. Awkwardly he did so... but only just.

"I do not know why you persist in this madness."

"So... teaching you to dance is madness is it." She shoved him playfully then laughed. "Come on you old faker, once again..." With a patient sigh, Darius tried again. Eleanor nearly collapsed in laughter. He was so funny sometimes. He had lifted the hem of his robe slightly so he could watch his sandal-clad feet in the steps and Eleanor thought she had never seen anything quite so ridiculous as a Roman Catholic monk in full regalia lifting his hem and trying to dance Hava Nagila. Then suddenly he seemed to get it and ended with a flourish.

"Bravo!" Eleanor clapped.

"It reminds me of some of the folk dances I danced as a boy."

"Really..." Eleanor smiled and arched one eyebrow.

"Enough for today... it is too hot for this and I am thirsty. Come sit in the shade with me a while." As they sat, bees buzzed about them from his nearby hives and the flowers waved in the slight breeze of the warm summer sunshine. "I believe Israel was good for you." Darius at last said. He offered her some water.

"Mmmm... I wish I could have stayed longer. As it was I probably stayed too long. But I wanted to be there when Miriam's first child was born. I had to stay for that."

"You raised her well..."

"I had to. She and Joshua had no one else. And it was good to be needed as a person, not just a healer. It was good to be able to help someone again... really help someone... really make a difference in someone's life. It had been so long."

"Will you be staying in Paris very long this time?" His voice was that of a friend and friends they were. Friends and trusted confidants of each other's darkest secrets. It had taken some doing to get back to that. It had taken several lifetimes in fact. Some of the old ease and banter was at last returning to their conversations.

"I hear there is a war in Southeast Asia... I may be going there next. But not just yet! I want to lay back and enjoy the Paris summer." Eleanor stretched her arms out on the wooden bench and reveled in the sunshine that did not burn and the gentle breezes that did not throw sand in her face. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could not remember being so happy, so content, in so very long... and she owed it to two orphan children and to this gentle priest who always seemed to say just what she needed to hear.

***

****

Chapter 2C

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To Everything a Season

Paris, Autumn 1940

The sound of machine guns echoed in the next street. Eleanor held little Miriam in her arms and Joshua by the hand as she carefully made her way between the sounds and the evidence of the fighting. Paris, for the most part, would be spared any bombing, but there was still some street fighting.

Right now her concerns were for the children. Their parents had entrusted them to her when they realized that the Nazis were now in control of Paris. They were to split up. Eleanor was to take the children and get them out of the city. If possible, David and Rachel would meet them in London.

Eleanor had many contacts and with her immortal training, she was a more likely guardian for the children than the meek banker and his fretful wife. They were good parents... they just weren't equipped to handle resistance against the Nazi's. Eleanor was worried about them... she had heard some things about what might be happening further east in the Warsaw ghetto and in other places. 

"These things will not happen here... after all this is still France!" David had said. So she had taken the children, deciding it was better if she could at least save two lives.

The first thing she had done was to remove the yellow stars the children wore. It was foolishness to advertise who they were. She gave them new names to use until she could get them to safety. She drilled them, and then they had started on their way.

Unfortunately, the resistance cell she was supposed to meet up with had been compromised and she was cut off from the others she knew of. The street fighting had led her into an all too familiar section of Paris. One she had avoided for many years. Miriam/Anna whimpered in her arms and Joshua/Michael had stumbled. She had to find a place for them to rest. Eleanor knew where she would have to take them... but she did not know if she were still welcome at Darius' church. At present, though, she had no other choice.

Quickly they crossed the street and were through the gate and up to the church steps when the immortal priest opened the door. He had sensed her coming and had come to investigate who was entering holy ground. 

"I need sanctuary for the children Darius."

He stood aside and let her enter. She shuddered even as she crossed the threshold... but there was no earthquake, no tremor, and no storms. Not this time. Darius closed the door behind them and replaced the large wooden barrier across the doors.

"I dislike barring them but these Nazi's are all too intrusive. They do not seem to respect a church."

"Mortals seldom do."

Darius shot her a sharp glance and then smiled at Miriam and caressed her head. "Jewish?"

Eleanor nodded and explained the situation briefly. "I thought we could hide in the crypt if that were all right with you? Just for tonight."

He nodded as he led the way to the underground crypt beneath the church. "Take them on down, there are some candles down there and I will get some blankets, water and food for you." He pressed the mechanism on the back of the altar and the stone moved with a grinding shudder. Eleanor descended into the darkness.

She lit the candles she found on the small wooden shelf and looked around. It did not seem that he had been down here recently. Perhaps he had stopped brewing the mead. She smiled at the memory of that gathering the four of them had had so many centuries before.

"Marie..." three-year old Miriam pulled at her guardian's skirt. "I'm hungry."

"Me too!" seven-year old Joshua added, chiming in just because his younger sister had said something. Above them they heard the priest descend into the crypt, his arms loaded with blankets.

"I'll have to go over to the refectory to get some food, but it shouldn't take long. I'll close up the crypt while I'm gone." Darius handed her the blankets and whispered. "I have missed you Eleanor."

Eleanor smiled weakly and nodded. He had forgiven her. She wondered why she had even feared he would not. As always, he seemed to know and say what she most needed to hear. Not what she wanted to hear... but what she needed. Their fingers touched briefly in the exchange of the blankets and Eleanor knew, no matter what happened this night... the past was forgotten.

Several hours later, once the children were fed and bedded down for the night, Eleanor and Darius sat on two of the small wooden stools that had once held the mead casks. They whispered so they would not disturb the children. He knew some resistance contacts and he would make the arrangements tomorrow. She and the children would be safe down here. Only he and she knew the way in. There was little chance anyone would stumble on the secret... at least no one had since the church had been built in the twelfth century, shortly after they had first met.

Eventually Eleanor told him of her travels since leaving Paris eleven years before. She didn't tell him everything. She did not tell him of the bloody massacre at the village of San Petro nor of the immortal she had left buried there. She was still afraid that was a horror that might yet come back to haunt her. But she told him of everything else. And... She offered an apology. "I was terrible to you that night."

"You were very drunk."

"No... I was just being..." she paused and shrugged and smiled. He laughed at her imitation of his own movement.

"Who needs a mirror when you are around." He laughed with her and it was a good laugh that seemed to wipe away the darkness of that last confrontation. "I need to go up now. I will bring you fresh water and I will try to get some milk for the children if any can be found." He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. Then he rose and left.

Eleanor waited until the crypt was sealed, then she let the tears flow. She had held it all in for so long! Within her Kae Dhun struggled to break free, but she held him in. He always waited for when she was tired, as she was now. What was it Methos had tried to teach her... Eastern meditation? Eleanor settled onto the floor of the crypt and crossed her legs. She focused on the calm center, took a deep breath, and tried to erase all thought from her mind. Gradually Kae Dhun ceased his struggles and faded back into the darkness. Eventually she stirred, blew out the candles and settled down to sleep.

***

The children were restless the next morning, but brightened up when Darius opened the crypt and brought down some breakfast, some hard rolls, some cheese, some fruit, he had even found a little milk. The crypt was small and not made for young children who would be happier running and playing in the gardens above.

"The Germans are patrolling the streets. I have sent one of the parish boys to take a message to the underground. We should hear back later today," he told her as she tried to settle the children and keep them quiet.

He handed her a children's book from his library. "Perhaps this will help." He grinned.

It was "**Le Chanson de Frere Jacques et La Belle Marie**." Eleanor giggled with girlish delight and covered her mouth to keep from being too loud. She recalled the first time they had found a copy of that book. The gawdy red, gold and black plates illustrating the story of the legend of the mysterious day laborer and the Gypsy girl had ended up becoming one of their favorite treasures. 

"Frere Jacques," the story told, "wandered the streets of Paris anonymously leaving gold coins in the hands of the worthy poor, while the beautiful Gypsy girl who had stolen his heart danced on the steps of Notre Dame. But their love could never be." Eleanor smiled. "For he was doomed to walk the night and she was doomed to walk the day" went the refrain.

"Amazing how tales get twisted in the telling," Eleanor, who knew the truth of the tale's origins, had once told him.

"Who is to say what is the truth," had been Darius' reply that day.

"I'm certain they will enjoy it," Eleanor murmured softly as she flipped through the pages. "Thank you!"

Darius acknowledged her thanks with a smile and went up the stairs. "I'll try to leave the crypt open for awhile so you can have some light and fresh air. The doors are still barred so it should be safe enough."

It was early afternoon when Eleanor heard a sound from above. She shushed the children and warned them to stay below. Cautiously she crept up the steps, her knife close at hand. Darius was at the church doors admitting a young woman in dark clothes. They spoke together quietly a moment then approached Eleanor.

"This is Madeline...she is with a resistance cell," Darius gestured toward the young woman who curtly nodded her greeting to Eleanor. Eleanor began to explain the problem and mentioned some of the code words she knew to let Madeline know she was on the level. Madeline did the same.

"Can you help me get them out of Paris safely." Eleanor finally asked the young resistance fighter.

"I think so Madame, I am to guide you to someone who can help." The young woman seemed very self-assured.

A sudden pounding at the church door interrupted them! They could hear the insistent commands without the church. The Germans were here!

Madeline looked about fearfully, "I am so sorry. I should have been more careful! Is there another way out?"

"Alas, no..." Darius said, "but go below... both of you... I will deal with this."

"Below...?" Madeline's eyes at last fell on the gaping maw of the entrance to the crypt. "Ohh... sanctuary." She nodded and started down the steps.

Just then, the beating at the door turned into a major crash and the door splintered. Eleanor reached over to the stone mechanism and shut the crypt on Madeline's descending form. Her eyes met Darius'. The immortals would have to face this together.

"Follow my lead this time, trust my judgment!" Darius whispered. Eleanor bit her lips, but nodded her agreement.

The German patrol entered the church... their machine guns waving about as if there were a party of Resistance in the small church awaiting them with guns. An officer entered and barked orders as his men searched the church.

The officer walked up to the immortal pair and regarded them a moment. His eyes moved up and down Eleanor, then he motioned to one of the men to grab her. "You are not the one who came in here... but you will do for now." He motioned for them to take her out of here.

"Yes... " thought Eleanor, "take me out of this place and I will deal with the likes of you." Within her the ever-present voice of Kae Dhun once more struggled, his dark rage beginning to boil. Below her, the ground seemed to murmur as his darkness became hers.

Darius spread his arms, "This is a church... search all you care to... we are the only ones here. Take what you need... leave the woman... she is not what you think she is. She will not be able to give you any information." He spoke in flawless German... as if to gain their trust... as if to calm the situation.

The officer moved very close to Darius. "Be careful, priest, or I will take you as well." He snapped his fingers and turned to leave, motioning his men to bring Eleanor with them.

Darius reached out to the officer, "Please... for your own safety... leave her here."

The officer turned a sneer across his face. Quietly he unsnapped his holster, pulled his Luger, and shot Darius in the head.

"Nooo!... Screamed Eleanor and struggled in the Nazi soldier's grip. All about her the ground seemed to tremble with her rising rage and despair. She was powerless here! Darius would be back... but they had no right to do this... they would pay... they would pay!

The officer re-holstered his gun, re-snapped the flap, and then stood before the struggling Eleanor calmly. He smiled then harshly slapped her face. "Take her out of here!" he ordered and followed them out of the church without a backward glance at the body of the meddlesome priest.

Eleanor continued to struggle. She wanted to run to Darius! She needed to be certain he was all right. The shot had been so close to the head! What if there was too much damage? She struggled some more... then realized they had left the church.

Soon!" she thought. "Soon!" She stopped struggling and glared at the officer's back as they took their final steps off of holy ground. She stopped and twisted about in the German soldier's grasp. She lashed out to break his neck then tossed him away as if he were a lifeless toy. The officer turned, his eyes narrowed. Eleanor reached out swiftly with her right hand and closed it with all her immortal strength about the shocked officer's throat before he could say anything. She closed and twisted her hand in a fierce fist and pulled with great satisfaction!

The remains of his throat dripped from her fist. His eyes widened. His hands tried to stop the gushing of the blood. He slowly collapsed onto the pavement.

Eleanor laughed maniacally as the machine guns' bullets tore into her and she surrendered to the darkness.

***

When she came to herself again... she quietly assessed her surroundings before making any sudden movement. Her body had been stacked near several others in a nearby street. A bored German sentry was pacing back and forth observing the quiet street. He was obviously wishing he were in an engagement elsewhere.

Eleanor waited until his back was turned, then crept into the shadows. Hopefully, he would never notice that one body was missing.

She swiftly assessed the damage and pulled at the bloody bullet holes in her light gray dress. She was unarmed. Someone had found her knife. Her sword was in her coat, but that was still in the crypt. She would need to find other attire... and quickly.

She slipped into an alleyway and saw drying laundry on a line. As she passed by, she quickly collected a dark navy dress she knew was too big for her... but it would have to do. Finding a sheltered corner she removed her own dress and slip... letting the bloody rags drop to the ground. She kicked them away from her, pulled on the substitute dress and adjusted it.

She raised her right hand to run her fingers through her hair but paused looking at it. The dried blood and gore still staining her fingers gave her a sense of unreality. She turned her hand over as if it were something belonging to someone else. "Water..." she thought. "I need water to wash up."

She located a fountain and plunged her hands in. The blood dissolved away... but even then... she could still see traces under her nails. "Later..." she thought, "I'll clean them later." Now she had to get back to the church, back to Darius and back to the children... if they were still there.

She found him scrubbing the blood from the floor of the nave. She paused in the splintered doorway. He looked at her sadly, then rose. She ran to him and held him. He made no motion of welcome. He mist be angry with her. He pushed her away. Slowly he lifted her still bloody hand and turned it over. His face was filled with such pain.

"The children?" she finally asked attempting to change the subject.

"They are still below with Madeline... I thought I should clean things up a bit before letting them out." He turned from her and resumed the scrubbing of the stone floor.

Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief. She knelt beside him, "Let me help," she offered quietly.

"I can manage..." His voice betrayed his pain. "Could you not this once have just gone along with them meekly. Did they have to die?"

"No!" Eleanor continued to kneel. "I couldn't... I couldn't control him..."

"Are you so certain it was the voice of Kae Dhun?" he asked finally satisfied that the floor was blood-free. He tossed the brush into the bucket of bloody water and rose to carry it out of the church.

She followed him. "You need to leave this place. You are not safe here! Someday someone will come and kill you and you will not rise. They have no fear of violence in this place. It is we are powerless!"

"Who would come? What could they do? Who would know? Only the Watchers know and they only watch. I have work to do..." He tossed out the water angrily and returned to the church. He stopped midway up the nave and sighed, apparently regaining his composure. "It is only you who desecrates this place. You who continually brings violence here."

"Why will you never listen to me?" she yelled. She had followed him once more into the church... this time the ground began to murmur with her presence. "You have been here too long!"

"And whose fault is that?" He said curtly. Then he paused as if carefully considering his words and turned to her with an even greater sadness. "Whose fault is it that I am still here."

Tears brimmed in her eyes, "That's not fair and you know it."

"Then kill me and be done with it!"

"Never... I will never kill you... I will never kill you."

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Then I will remain... and you will go... and the world will go on. Now, let us get the children so Madeline can get them to safety. She must be concerned down there that no one will come to let them out. As it is, they have been down there too long already."

Eleanor bowed her head meekly and acquiesced. In this time and in this place... it was the children who mattered.

As soon as it opened, Miriam bounded up out of the crypt and ran into Eleanor's arms. Eleanor held her and then picked her up. Joshua ran to hug them both. For Eleanor, it was the best medicine... the touch of the children could help her regain control. For them... she could turn from the darkness still swirling like a great whirlwind in her mind.

When she left the underground crypt, Madeline looked about as if wondering what had taken so long... but then indicated that they had to go.

Miriam held up the book, and shyly offered it back to Darius. He smiled..."Take it with you...it's a gift." She held it close to her with a broad smile and her wide black eyes were filled with joy.

"Truly it is mine?"

"Truly it is yours," and Darius kissed the little girl's head with a smile. Already his own anger had seemed to vanish.

Eleanor met his gaze and nodded gratefully. As always, Darius seemed to know just what she had needed to hear... and to do just what she needed so that she could calm her demons for another day. "Thank you..." She smiled. "I'll be in touch." Meanwhile within her she thought over and over again, "I will never kill him... never! Not for you Kae Dhun... not for Darius, when he asks it of me... not for me. I will never kill him! Never!"

***

****

Chapter 2D

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To Everything a Season

Paris, Winter 1929

The jazzy blues filled the smoke-filled club and the sounds of people drinking at the bar and conversing in drunken voices surrounded her. Eleanor swayed on the barstool and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The short platinum bob still did not look quite real on her... she took a long drink and then drew in a long breath on her cigarette in its holder. She blew out the offending smoke and smiled at the bartender.

"Once more, Pierre." She gave him a coy wink loaded with meaning as he re-filled her glass with the smooth whiskey. "A double."

"Of course, mademoiselle," and he returned the look. She turned about on the barstool and gazed about the room. The singer concluded her number and was met with polite applause. Eleanor looked over the crowd deciding just who she would play with tonight.

From near the entrance she felt another. She did not look in that direction. Perhaps he wouldn't notice her if she failed to respond. But she was aware that someone had taken a seat in a dark corner. Gradually she turned back to the bar and oh so casually glanced at the table in the corner. Her eyes widened. She picked up her drink and went to join him.

"Fancy meeting you here!" she said as she sat down next to Darius. "Frere Jacques, I presume!" She leaned back in the chair and regarded the disguised priest darkly. "Come out to play have you?" Eleanor purposely crossed her legs, letting the short flapper dress reveal more skin that it should. She smiled at his obvious discomfort and took another long puff on the cigarette. She held it a moment, then purposely exhaled into his face. She smiled.

"Eleanor... you shouldn't be doing this..."

"Michelle... I am Michelle this life." Eeleanor snapped at him. She stuck her tongue out slightly and licked her finger. She motioned to the bartender to bring two drinks then downed the one already before her. She waited patiently while the drinks were brought. She shoved one over in front of Darius. "So what brings you out on a cold night like this?"

"You... I heard you were in town... I was worried... you hadn't come to see me."

"Why should I... has anything changed?"

"You know it hasn't."

"Then give me a reason to come."

"This is madness..." he gestured about the club. "You are being entirely too self-destructive. You have a gift... you are killing yourself with this behavior."

"What if I am... it's my life."

"Come back with me... I will help you through this darkness... we will work something out."

"Don't you understand? I don't want to work something out... what I want is for you to leave me be!" But even as she said it, she knew that was not what she really wanted. She drew once more on the cigarette. But it tasted hot and harsh. She pulled it out of the holder and stubbed it out on the table. Then in frustration she tossed both it and the holder away.

She leaned over to him and said pointedly, "You know how I feel. That hasn't changed. It doesn't matter that it wasn't planned... that it wasn't right... that it just is! Now go away."

She rose to leave.

He reached out to grab her hand. She twisted free of his grasp then leaned over him. "Stay in your own world, priest. Come here again, come into my world and I swear to you I will kill you where you stand." She pulled back, grabbed the light coat she had left on the barstool, and stormed off and out of the club.

She went two blocks and then halted in an alleyway to wait. He would follow... she knew he would follow. But he didn't. And her rage grew. She stormed through the night daring anyone to approach her. "Clear out of my way... petty mortals!" she thought and kept walking.

Eventually her steps had taken her where she knew they would. She hesitated outside the sphere of acknowledgment... too far to feel him... too far for him to feel her. Eleanor leaned against the wall and waited until all was in darkness.

When she was calm, she drew her knife. She turned it over and over in her hands and glared at the church. Within her Kae Dhun laughed, "Kill him... kill him." Yes, perhaps it was time. She hefted the knife and ran swiftly across the street and into the darkened church. He was in his cell... good. She flung open the door and saw him turning on the lights as he sat defenseless on the edge of the bed. He stood and spread wide his arms as if in sacrifice.

She stepped toward him and she felt the ground murmur. She hesitated then lowered her knife. She shook with the force of the fury within her. The other voices within tried to drown out Kae Dhun. But he was too strong for them this time. But he was not too strong for her. She lifted her arm and sliced through it with the knife to watch the blood flow freely before she healed once again. And then she screamed!

She whirled about the room slicing at the tapestries, knocking over the furniture, smashing anything that would break. She lashed out at everything but him... never at him. And Darius stood there and quietly let the storm pass.

When she was finished, she threw the knife at his feet and stormed out of the church, knocking over the chairs in her wake.

Outside, a winter storm had finally broken through, and a cold rain fell. Rough winds buffeted her. Her sleeveless flapper dress and thin coat were not enough to protect her from its fury. But nature's storm overwhelmed her own and finally she just wandered aimlessly about the streets.

It was a child's pleas that finally made her aware of her surroundings once more. "Ma mere," the child called pleadingly, "Ma mere..." Eleanor halted. A little girl was crouched over the body of a woman lying in the streets. "Ma mere!" she cried.

Eleanor knelt down and felt the woman's cold hand and lack of pulse. She picked up the little girl roughly. "Where do you live?" The child shrugged, so Eleanor tried another question, "Where is your Pere?" The little girl shook her head. "Do you have someone else?"

"Ma mere's sister... my Tante Celeste... but she and Ma mere had a fight last night at her house and now Ma mere just lies there."

The rain had begun to let up. Eleanor carried the little girl out into the street over her protestations. "Hush... we are going to get some help for your poor Ma mere!" she finally told the child harshly and glanced up and down the street looking for a "gendarme."

When she found one... she quickly explained the situation and led him back to the woman's body. He went to the nearest call box. Soon, an ambulance and other authorities had arrived. All the while, Eleanor held the crying child in her arms, carefully murmuring into her ear and trying to calm her. But her words fell on deaf ears. Perhaps her magic had finally left her... banished by the darkness.

Near dawn, the woman's body was loaded in an ambulance. Eleanor gave her statement and turned the still screaming child over to the authorities. Once finished, she vanished into the gloom and went back to her recently rented room over the club to crawl into bed... still in her wet clothes. She was exhausted.

It was dark again when she awoke... it usually was in this life. But she didn't feel like clubbing tonight. She rolled over, curled herself into a ball and went back to sleep once more. This time she could hear the mournful music drift through the ceiling of the floor below. When she next awoke... it was daylight.

Slowly she arose and dropped her still damp dress onto the floor and looked for the satin chemise. After pulling it on she ran her fingers through the short platinum hair and splashed cold water on her face. Gazing into the mirror she knew two things. One she had to get out of here... and two, she needed to make a change in her life. Darius was right... she was becoming entirely too self-destructive.

Something occurred to her and she knelt on the floor carefully sorting through some mail she had casually tossed into the overflowing wastebasket. She found what she was looking for finally... a letter asking her to join a medical mission to Chile. 

Chile... South America... it had been well over a hundred years since she had been in that part of the world. Perfect! She drew a bath and soaked in the hot water letting the heat pull the last of her black mood out of her. She would go to Chile. She would become a healer once again. And then... only then... she would try to mend her fences with Darius. The nice thing about being immortal she thought as she lowered her head beneath the warm water... you always got a second chance to make it right.

****


	3. Journey

****

Chapter Three

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Journey

Niebos, Greece 2003

But now there were no second chances. 

Eleanor stretched in the wide bed and faced the early morning sunshine streaming through the window. Her dreams had taken her nowhere. Only further into her grief. She could go no further. She punched the pillows and lay in the bed, not really ready for the day's activities.

But there would be no respite. Phillip knocked at her door. "Up and at 'em, Little Sister. We have a mountain to climb!" Eleanor groaned... she really did not need this.

"I'm up!" she called trying to sound pleasant if not eager. She threw off the sheet and rummaged in her bag for the denim capris and pale green shirt she had brought. They hung on her like baggy clothes. She grabbed her straw hat and descended the stairs to find both Phillip and Methos already dressed and waiting.

Phillip looked much as he had the day before, and he must have lent their older friend some appropriate clothes. Eleanor snorted suddenly, amused at the sight of the tall slender immortal now wearing some of Phillip's clothes. Phillip was just so much shorter and broader.

At the snort Methos shot her a look that said it all. "Don't start with me!" Eleanor tossed her head impishly and put on her hat. She loved getting him like that! Shewriggled her bare toes on the marble floor, noticing that the others had followed suit. No Shoes!

Phillip tossed her a croissant. "We need to go if we are to make low tide." He turned and she could see he had already packed a lunch into his backpack. Methos shrugged and followed Phillip out the door. Phillip led them down the path that crossed over to the ancient Pilgrim's Path that had been worn into the mountain by thousands of worshippers over two thousand years ago.

It was over-grown now... but still clearly visible. "Every few months some archeology group comes to Niebos to study the ruins. They always want to climb the path as it was done... at least they do the first time they go to the cove and of course..." he grinned, "They have to climb it to study the ruins."

Eleanor's bare feet were nicked by the pebbles and sharp volcanic glass that littered the path. "Drat!" she called out as one shard pierced her foot. She hopped on the other to pull it out. "You and your bright ideas!"

"All part of the game!" he said teasingly and led the way. "The pilgrims always climbed barefoot..."

"Are we going to have a running commentary the entire way...?" Methos growled.

Phillip chuckled. "Oh all right... be lost in your own thoughts then. I was just trying to be sociable." He said nothing further for a long time.

The three immortals continued their slow climb up the mountain of Niebos, hoping to get the worst of it over before the heat of the day made the pilgrimage too much of a task even for their immortal constitutions.

"It was never supposed to be easy," Phillip finally said in labored breathing as they trudged up the mountain path. The silence of the others had become too much for him as it usually did. "Pilgrims and penitents were supposed to have time to carefully reflect just what they needed to know before they were allowed to approach the oracle and ask their question."

"We get the idea," Eleanor countered. "But now there is no oracle to ask... so why the torture?"

"You'll see," he smiled mysteriously once more and continued the climb. Despite his own recent loss, Phillip had thrown himself into this madness. They were to have fun... and in the process they would mourn for those they had lost. If she had thought to ease his loss this visit... it would seem Phillip had other plans. But she wasn't quite certain what it was he hoped to gain by this activity.

Eleanor glanced at Methos. He was as he had been the night before... icy cold. It was as if he were going through the motions of this adventure without purpose or feeling. "_Do you even still feel anything after all these years?_" she wondered. It had been a little over one hundred and twenty years since he had finally told her of his own dark past. It had taken that long for her to get him to trust her with his secrets and the tale of his journey. That had been not long after she had helped him to avoid Kronos. After that, he had finally confided in her. He couldn't tell Phillip... she must not tell Phillip... Phillip had once promised Cassandra whom he often saw that if he ever found any of the fabled 'Horsemen' he would tell her... and Methos did not want Phillip in the middle of this situation.

So for over a century, Eleanor had kept his secret... but she had never told him hers. That she still kept, although he probably had an idea about it after Angola. It wasn't her fury and self-destructive rage that had made him leave that day... that he had always helped her deal with... but she had seen something reflected in his eyes, as if she had betrayed something... let something out... something that had never occurred to him before.

Eleanor shoved the memories away. She did not want to revisit them. Being able to move beyond them for the first time since they had happened made her reluctant to do so, as if to remember them would trap her there once more. She thought instead about Methos and his past. 

Once she had known of it... she had more clearly understood so many things she had seen in him over the centuries. She understood his dark moods and his brooding... and she understood just why he always showed up for these wakes. He was so very lonely. As were they all. But his loneliness and guilt stretched back over five thousand years. He had so much more to atone for... he had so many more voices within him. So many more to keep under control. His balancing act was far more complex than hers could ever be.

Perhaps the wakes were one of the ways he compensated for his aloneness. The other was his sarcasm. He had seen it all. Nothing was new. But he still wanted to survive. In spite of everything, he wanted to survive. Eleanor wondered which immortal he had recently killed? The subject hadn't come up last night... no that would likely be part of tonight's discussion. She didn't think it was Silas' voice that bothered him. Phillip had told her that the "Horsemen" were no more. They were all dead now, except for Methos himself. What had most surprised her was that Duncan MacLeod had been involved! And that somehow it was he who had killed Caspian and Kronos!

"_Did you plan that out too?_" she wondered. _"Was it a way to keep their ancient evil at bay? Was it a way to load their ghosts on to MacLeod so that he would have to deal with them?_" But she kept her questions to herself.

She paused as the path snaked back the other direction and gazed out onto the vista. The dull green trees... the sharp black volcanic glass... the white sand... the blue sky... the turquoise sea... it was so very lovely here. She could see why the pilgrims climbed the mountain. The view was a calming one on a day like this.

Eleanor thought about what Phillip had told them last night_. "It is not the destination but the journey that is important... _" She disagreed... sometimes it was not the journey but the destination. Sometimes... everything was in the destination. She turned and continued the climb up Mt. Niebos but her memories of Darius continued their backward journey over time.

****

Chapter 3A

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Destination

Paris, 1912

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Eleanor waited impatiently as the huge cargo ship entered the harbor at Le Havre. She was already impatient. She had to get back to Paris. She had to get home now! She had no faster way to reach him. She had to let him know... she was still alive. She was not trapped in the twisted wreckage of the "Titanic" and lost in the depths of the ocean. He had told her once of drowning on a galley while chained to an oar and how long... how many deaths it had taken to find his way out of that watery grave. He would think that she too was trapped at the bottom of the ocean. She had to get to Darius now! Couldn't this ship dock any faster!

From what she had gathered from talk on the cargo ship, authorities had posted the names of the passengers, the names of the recovered, and the names of those who had survived. She knew the name she had been using would be on the passenger list. But she also knew it would not appear on either of the others. When the cargo crew had picked her body out of the water a few days ago... she had not mentioned the "Titanic". Already several weeks had passed and no one could have survived those icy waters for more than a few minutes. Certainly not for several weeks! She had danced around their questions... feigning amnesia.

The ship had been headed to Le Havre, which suited her just fine. She would get back to France. She would reassure Darius that she was alive. He would forgive her. He had to forgive her. What was taking so damned long!

She had no papers... no money... and she would need to conveniently vanish in a few moments, bewildering the crew and the authorities that they would call. Perhaps it would be put down to their having fished a mermaid from the water. Stranger things had happened! Sailors always had tales of the sea. She planned to just vanish over the edge as soon as the ship docked and she could safely swim the harbor to the shore. She patted her foot in anticipation and absently ran her hand through her long hair. She supposed it would be best to leave the heavy seaman's coat they had given her behind. Perhaps it would add to the mystery. She would miss it though... it was bound to be cold when she got out of the water. But she had no time! She had to get to Paris. She'd pick up whatever she needed on the way.

The ship finally docked and Eleanor vanished over the rail.

Two hours later, still damp, but now covered by a long coat she had managed to pilfer from a tavern cloakroom; she had started on foot toward Paris. With any luck, she would make it by tomorrow... sooner if she could manage to get a ride. But in the darkness of the French countryside... there were no rides. The carters had ceased their travel for the night. The coaches no longer ran at night. The new autos were not really equipped yet for night travel. She was on her own and desperate to get to Paris.

She soon found herself almost running. She would run until even her great strength failed. She would slow to a walk, recover and then she would run once more. At dawn she was still five miles from Paris. But she would make it today. 

She had only her knife. Her short sword was lost to her at the bottom of the ocean. Perhaps that was for the best at least for now. She was certain if any immortal got in her way... well they would regret it if necessary. She would let no one and nothing stop her. It had been too long already.

They had argued when she left. "Come with me! The United States is a big country. It has lots of open spaces. We can get lost there for a thousand years."

"My place is here... you know this!"

"I've bought two tickets. I'll meet you at the harbor. Come with me!" But he had not come.

Aja whispered in her mind, "You must move on Eleanor! Your path lies elsewhere, now!"

Methos had finally given even her voice a name. "She has always been with you, even when you were a child.You listened to her then..." he had said the last time she had seen him, "listen to her now and she will guide you." But she no longer trusted Methos. There was an old darkness in him that dwarfed even her own.

Aja wanted her to leave Paris behind but Eleanor did not want to leave. It was her choice after all. Her choice! If she did leave, Darius would leave with her this time... he would be so thankful she was alive that he would leave with her. Like O ro' dred and Nin they would have a life. They would have a thousand years. They would die together in a single stroke and be forever united. 

She picked up her pace once more, ignoring the brief struggle of Kae Dhun. She felt no rage, only his desire for the freedom to control her thoughts. But Methos had taught her how to hold him in check. And Kritis would help! She centered her thoughts on the nothingness at the center of her soul and continued to move forward but her mind was focused on that calm center of her being which contained... nothing!

It was late afternoon when Eleanor got to the church. She ran in only to realize he was not here! For a moment she was confused! Where could he be? He was always here! At least by day! Then she had the barest sense of him... across the street... in the hidden grove! She retrieved her copy of the key from its hiding place in the church and ran through the narrow alley and up to the locked gate. He was there she could feel him. She unlocked the gate and ran in ... he was sitting on the stones about the small bubbling spring they had long ago hidden from the encroaching city of Paris. He looked up at her with obvious relief.

She ran to him and he held her. She was home. She would never leave again. No matter what rules he set to their relationship... she was home and she would never leave again. This time when she kissed him... he did not pull away.

She knew she would never leave him again. But if she did, he would come with her. He had to come with her! Only Darius could calm the storm now... only he had the means to always say what she needed to hear... only him. He was the only one she trusted now!

But it might as well have been a dream. By morning they were fighting again. Would he never understand? Would he never leave this place? Would he never listen to her? Would he never trust her?

"War is coming... I am needed here!" 

"There will always be wars!" she insisted! "And if not wars... there will always be something!"

And so she had left again, almost immediately. This time for good she had told him! She would never bother him again. If he wanted to see her... he would have to leave holy ground and find her! And so she left... as suddenly as she had come.

***

Chapter 3B

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A Simple Gift

Paris 1862

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Calmly Eleanor watched the pigeons coo and peck their way about the small pile of tossed bread crumbs. She sighed. Sometimes it was in the simple things that she found the most peace. She looked around at the bright and sunny day and breathed deeply of the crisp Autumn air. She was glad to be back in Paris again! She was attired in the style of the day, although she was not fond of the hooped skirt and the corset. They were far too restricting in movement. Well... perhaps she wouldn't have to worry about that.

Sitting here in the Luxembourg Gardens, among the trees, she felt content. Her hands fell on the small wrapped package she had for Darius. Something special! Something she knew he would like!

Although she was not a great writer of letters, they had managed to stay in touch over the years. And she knew Phillip had been to see him several times.

She refused to go to the church... nor to the spring... not after last time. Eleanor shook her head and concentrated as Edward had told her. "Concentrate and let it go. Be the stone against which the storm crashes. Be eternal. Be unmoving." 

But stones eventually wear out she had said. He had smiled one of his mysterious smiles. "Not for a long, long time."

So she had become stone, and the rage of Kae Dhun spent itself against her will. She shook her head and looked up. She smiled. Darius was coming.

The priest, in his guise as a French peasant walked up and sat beside her, the peaked cap pulled low over his face. Eleanor laughed.

"I really should get you some new clothes. Those are so out of date they call attention to you."

"I am happy to see you too, Eleanor." He arched one eyebrow, but his amusement was apparent. "Welcome home."

"Home? Is this home?" She shook her head slightly, "Sometimes I wonder."

"Phillip wrote me that you and Edward traveled around the world this time."

Eleanor laughed, her laughter sounded like tinkling bells, "It was almost like old times... but for the raging inside me. I never want to go through that again."

"You took too much in... He was too much for you."

"He was my first, I guess I did not handle it well."

"Kae Dhun had one of the ancients within him. I fear that may have been the source of all that rage... all that power... I believe it drove him mad. You should have trusted me... I could have handled him."

"Trust..." Eleanor smiled. "Who knows old one... someday I just might." She handed him the package.

As he unwrapped the book and realized what it was and who it was by, she grinned. "Open it up... I had him sign it for you. And I marked a passage... you've been telling tales again."

"Perhaps... but never the whole truth." Darius fingered the binding and flipped through the pages of "**Les Miserables**" by Victor Hugo. It was a runaway hit in Paris these days. He had not yet had the opportunity to get a copy. Then he saw what was written in her strange handwriting inside the front cover. He glanced up at her... she saw something in his eyes... a moment of recognition... something he seemed to know. But he only smiled.

She shrugged, "Something to remember me by."

Her ungloved hand rested on the bench beside her. He took it in his hand and clasped it gently. They sat for a long time just looking about... content in only that simple touch. Finally she released his hand and rose "I have to go now. My young poet is waiting."

Darius nodded. She turned then to walk out of the gardens, out of his life, at peace with herself.

Behind her she heard him say, "I will miss you Eleanor. I always do."

She hesitated her step then replied "Ahh... but I miss you more," and continued to walk away.


	4. Truce

****

Chapter Four

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Truce

Niebos, 2003

By noon, they had reached the ruins of the temple complex of Poseidon. This was where the priests, the priestesses and the oracle had lived. This was where they had accepted the offerings from the penitents before they descended to the sandy beach. This was where Phillip had lived as a boy. This was not holy ground... that lay below in the sacred cove.

Phillip passed another of the canteens of water around while Methos and Eleanor looked out on the spectacular view. It had been two hundred years since she had climbed up here, but little had changed, except everything looked older... more weathered. The ruins after all this time were little more than chunks of quarried stone in lines that might once have been walls. The occasional pillar lay overgrown with verdant green.

From this height, the view of the Aegean was as always a turquoise silk upon which the jewel that was Niebos rested.

"Great view!" Methos said passing her a pear from the lunch Phillip had passed. "I'd never been up here before." He seemed relaxed and not nearly so distant, as though the climb alone had relaxed him.

"Never?" asked Eleanor biting into the sweet sugary pear.

"Last time I was here, I was with Alexa... I feared the climb might be too much for her. We went 'round to the cove by the beach path. She liked the cove."

"And that first time... when we were all here before?"

"I was in a hurry to see how you were... I didn't take the time. Perhaps I should have."

"Perhaps..." Eleanor finished the pear. She even ate the core and spit out the seeds into the palm of her hand. She tossed them to the ground and prayed they would grow... or offer sustenance to birds. Suddenly she was hungry. The climb had taken more out of her than she had anticipated. She crossed over to Phillip sitting quietly on the remains of a stone wall lost in thought, while chewing on one of the sandwiches.

She rummaged through the pack and lifted out a cheese sandwich. She unwrapped it and ate hungrily. Then she grabbed a handful of grapes. Phillip smiled at her but said nothing.

Eating the grapes one by one, Eleanor returned to Methos' side and offered him some. He shook his head.

"How many times do you suppose," he asked her, "has he made this climb since Carlo died."

Eleanor glanced over at Phillip. "Probably every day. Carlo used to love to come up here before he got so sick. He would sketch the horizons and paint the seascapes."

"Yes... some of those murals were scenes he could only have seen from up here." Methos agreed. Then he glanced back at Phillip. "He seems quieter than I have ever known him to be."

"Carlo became his whole life. I don't think he ever cared for any of his other companions the way he did for him. Why is it the ones we love die so young."

"The mortals you mean..."

Eleanor nodded. "They really have so little time, and yet... have you ever noticed that in their one lifetime... they get it. We who have many seem to keep making the same mistakes... over and over... and over again. How long do you think we live before we finally get it?"

"Longer than I've been alive..." he chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm still trying to figure it all out. Every time I think I know what's going on... the wheel turns and I'm right back where I began."

"Well that's reassuring... five thousand years and you're still as lost as any of us." She laughed. Time was, they might have kissed at this point... but not now. Not this time. Perhaps they would another day. The tones of their conversation had begun to reflect the ease they had once known.

"Hey, you two, time to move on. The tide will not wait." Phillip had packed up the remnants of the meal and re-shouldered the backpack. He was already on his way.

"Our task-master awaits!" smirked Methos sarcastically and followed Phillip down the backside of the mountain. Eleanor followed closely behind. The trip down would be swift and headlong as she well remembered. And the cove was waiting. 

Chapter 4A

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To Regain Trust

Niebos 1833 

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Eleanor tucked her damp and sandy skirts under her and concentrated on her letter to Darius. About her the surf pounded on the tiny beach and not far away, Lorenzo was reciting some of his latest poetry to Phillip. She liked Lorenzo... as with so many of Phillip's companions, he was an artist. In this case a poet. He was not a very good poet. But that didn't seem to matter to Phillip for a change. He seemed to just enjoy his friend's efforts for what they were... an appreciation of life!

"The island is beautiful. I am much calmer. The storms are still with me." Eleanor paused and looked up. She hated writing letters. But Phillip had promised Darius that she would write. She tried once more, "I wish you had come. I am so sorry. I should have listened to you." Within her head, Kae Dhun began to laugh. "Yes... bring him here... we can kill him then... you and I!" 

Eleanor dropped the pen and began to wring her hands and rock gently. "Shut up... shut up... shut up..." she raised her hands to her head and shook with the effort. She did not like this new voice! Where was her old one... why was the Lady so silent? And the others... why couldn't she hear them. Since that first brief introduction, they had settled into silence and it was only Kae Dhun she now heard. She had once known O ro' dred and Nin! She had often wondered what had happened to them... now all they had been was a part of her! She was their murderer... and then there was Kritis... this ancient wanted only to be buried in the earth and left in peace! She needed Darius to help her deal with the ancient. How had he managed all his years? She needed him!

Eleanor took a sudden sharp breath. Another immortal was coming! She glanced up. Phillip too was looking around. Who was here? Who knew they were here? Eleanor stood, flexing her bare toes in the sand. Perhaps Darius had come after all... She knew he would! He was coming! Eleanor saw a familiar figure on the beach path. She ran eagerly to meet him. 

But it wasn't Darius... it was Edward... Yet somehow... it didn't matter... she trusted Edward... she ran into his arms and clung to him. He held her tightly and murmured her first name in her ear. 

"I'm here Aella, I'm here!"

"Help me!" she sobbed. "I am so lost... help me... I trust you... only you!"

***

****

Chapter 4B

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Lost in the Darkness

Paris 1832

Eleanor tore strips of cloth into bandages. She feared there would never be enough bandages to offset the carnage she knew was coming. These children had no concept of what they were doing! But they were right in what they believed! How could she not help! How could she not try to save any that might survive the onslaught she knew would surely come.

Their weapons were few and the armee' had more than enough to spare. Not to mention ammunition! Did they really think they could hold off the armee'? She shook her head but continued to tear the cloth.

There were few females left here now, most had been sent away. But she had no fear of what would happen to her... she could take care of herself.

A sudden volley rang out from the barricade. It was starting again.

Eleanor crouched behind the overturned table... not from any fear of being shot... but from a desire to be ready to help one of the students as they fell. And they would fall.

An answering volley sounded from the armee' and one of the boys... Luc, she thought... fell backward. Swiftly Eleanor ran to retrieve him, dodging the ricocheting shots. He was alive... but bleeding badly. She slipped her arms under him and dragged him back to safety. He groaned.

"Can't be helped!" she thought, realizing that if she didn't get him to safety, he would die anyway. Once behind the table she went to work. He was breathing so she concentrated on stopping his bleeding. She could worry about getting the bullet out and repairing the damage later.

Even as she worked, she felt that sudden sense of a presence nearby. She had no time for that now! She ignored it and continued to work. Luc was more important, and whoever was there was still on the far side of the barricade! Whoever it was would have to wait. Finally, her sense of the other faded. He or she must have backed off... perhaps deciding to wait until the slaughter was over... or looking for another way in. Either way... Eleanor knew her time on this barricade was now limited.

"Marie-Charles..."

Eleanor glanced up at the use of the name she was using in this life.

"We have no more linen to tear for bandages. What should we do now."

"Pray!" and Eleanor returned to working on Luc.

Once more, the confrontation turned into a waiting game. Perhaps under cover of darkness a few of the wounded could be transported out of here. Eleanor moved between them, checking bandages, assessing wounds, smiling and offering courage. It was all she could do.

When she felt the approach of another immortal, she backed off into an unlit corner and waited. A man dressed as a French peasant from the last century halted near where she was and looked about.

Eleanor reached out and grabbed Darius into the shadows.

"What are you doing here, mon ami?"

"I came to see if you were all right. There is an immortal out there... and I think he is hunting."

"I know... he was near here earlier. But if that is so this is the last place you need to be. How did you get here?" At his glance to the street, she understood. He was traveling the catacombs and the sewers again. "Well go back the way you came. Everyone here will die tomorrow."

"Then come with me... this immortal seems to be with the armee' or the police. He would use the opportunity to end your life."

"I'm not like you mon ami. I cannot just sit by and let the world come to me. I have to help. Wasn't it you that taught me that once? Now go home!"

Another volley rang out. Eleanor watched as another of the students fell. She raced out to gather him up. But this time, one of the shots also found her. She felt the fire of the bullet pierce her side and she whirled in the force of the blow. The last thing she saw was Darius reaching for her and calling her name.

***

Eleanor came to in an eerie darkness. When she drew that first breath she gagged at the smell of the sewage. Around her she noticed the pale phosphorescent glow that covered patches on the walls of the sewer.

She sat up, still holding her side. It hurt... horribly. She had never been shot before. It was only her third death.

"We have to keep moving!" Darius crouched beside her and urged her to get up and moving.

"Why?"

"He is coming... the other one... I think he followed us down here."

Eleanor nodded and rose. Her sodden skirt clung clammily to her bare legs. She'd given the petticoat for bandages.

"Are you armed?" Darius asked.

"My knife... I fear my sword is likely still on the barricade unless you found my cape...? she grinned. "Are you?"

"Of course not... We need to go. Let's see if I can remember the best way to get us out of here."

Darius knew the sewers like the back of his hand. He had used them for centuries as a way to travel to distant parts of Paris. It was how he would lose his Watchers occasionally. Of course... he would always re-surface at the church as if he had never left. She had never told anyone. She never would. But he was right, ... if the other was hunting for them... they needed to put additional distance between themselves and him. He clasped her hand and pulled her along behind him.

They splashed through the water as they turned left for a short distance, then right, then left again. Darius would feel the walls occasionally, as if searching for notches or markings that helped him find his way in the darkness.

Eleanor could still feel the barest sense of another following them. She felt for the knife that was always with her. A woman could get by carrying a knife, a sword was sometimes difficult... but she knew much about fighting with a knife. Never against an immortal with a sword... but Phillip and Edward had both told her she needed to be ready to do so if the need arose. Right now... she thought it might. It would be her duty to protect her friend. She must make certain he got back to holy ground... at this point... any holy ground.

The following presence faded for a moment. Darius also stopped and whispered. "There are some catacombs off to the right. Should we chance those and hope he misses us?"

Eleanor agreed. She needed him on holy ground so she would be free to do what she might need to do. She had a feeling there was no way out of it this time. The ground rose beneath their feet and they finally climbed out of the murky water for a time. Soon they were in a small chamber set off from the sewer proper. It looked like a flood had at one time broken down the wall between the catacomb and the sewer so that one could pass from one into the other.

As soon as Darius set foot in the safety of the ancient burial site, Eleanor held up and backed away a step.

"Eleanor... where are you going?" she heard Darius say.

"I'll lead him away... stay still for now... I'll be back later." Then impulsively she leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth. For a moment he responded then he held her tightly and whispered.

"Stay here with me...here where we will both be safe... trust me to take care of this."

"No... you must trust me to take care of this... I can you know... I can."

Eleanor pulled loose then turned and ran back to where the water still covered the way. She slipped into it as quietly as she could, then moved to the far side. From faraway grates and access points, enough pale daylight was still coming through to pierce the darkness at certain points and give her a frame of reference. She waited until she could sense the other more strongly, then slowly began to draw him away from Darius, after her.

It seemed to be working. Gradually she could see a light in the darkness. The fool had a torch! He would be an easy target if need be. She felt for her knife, once more grateful for its comforting presence.

The torchlight hesitated, then turned and went to the right. He must have sensed Darius!

"Damn!" said Eleanor; she should have expected that. She splashed in the water, trying to make enough noise to draw him back to her. But, as if he knew the one he wanted, the hunting immortal made his way straight for Darius' hiding place.

Eleanor had no choice but to follow. She would have to be careful. He likely knew she was behind him in the darkness. Ahead she heard voices. Then she turned a corner and in the torchlight she could see them both.

"Come out thief... you stole my sword... but as you can see... I have it back. Your head is mine."

"I do not know you..."

"But you know my sword!" The immortal lifted a sword that seemed strangely familiar to Eleanor... but not one she had ever seen in Darius' possession. He had told he had given his own sword away a long time ago. Yet she knew this sword... she was certain. No matter... it would come to her... where she had seen it... or it would not.

In the torchlight Darius stared at the sword and nodded. "Then it was you in that barrow... buried in the earth."

"It was I who killed Kritis, first born of the ancients. His sword is mine by right! And so are you! And... your little friend back there!"

Eleanor no longer seemed to have a choice! She leapt quickly out of the darkness and threw her knife solidly into the man's back. The knife hit its target! The immortal roared and turned on her as she came at him. He shifted suddenly, a move she did not expect and lashed out at her, not with the sword, but with his other arm. He tangled her hair in his hand and forced her to the ground. The sword came sweeping to her neck... then halted, just barely touching her skin.

He laughed then. "What's it to be thief. Do you stay where you are and watch me kill her? Or, do you come out of there and face me?"

Darius' face was filled with sadness. "I will come... but first let her go."

"No... you come... then she can stand where you stand now and she can watch me take your head."

Eleanor forced herself to entirely relax. She must gather her strength! She could still stop this, but she had to seem utterly submissive to this. She whimpered slightly as the immortal tugged at her hair. "Stay where you are Darius," she thought, "Stay where you are." She did not dare to speak aloud.

Darius nodded, "I will come." He spread his arms wide and Eleanor saw a look of utter acceptance and peace on his face, as though he had played this scene before... only the last time, she knew it had been he with the sword and another ancient who had sacrificed himself.

She would not let this happen! Not this time! "No!" she yelled!

She took a deep breath and twisted, lashing out with one foot so that she solidly connected with the immortal's gut. The momentary pain as hair was ripped from her head was nothing compared to the satisfaction she felt as he doubled over. She leaped into the air and kicked with the other foot to disarm him in one of Phillip's patented moves. The sword flew into the air, turned and came down pommel first into her waiting hand.

As soon as she touched it... she knew where she had seen this sword before, and despite its length as compared to the type she usually preferred, she knew just how to wield it. She flipped it around and with both hands slashed with all her might at the immortal's neck. And this time... this time... she did not stop! This time the blade went all the way through.

She could hear Darius cry out, "No Eleanor!" But it was already done.

The immortal fell to his knees, for a moment his eyes regarded her curiously, then the head lopped off to one side and in the great darkness... she saw the beginning of the quickening approach her. She saw Darius move back away from her onto the holy ground of the catacomb. His eyes were closed.

Then she felt the first lick of the power. She focused on it, drawing it in as a dry sponge does water. She was so very depleted. She had always stopped before; never giving the deathblow... this was her first time. She knew from witnessing others that she had to draw in as much as she could. What she couldn't contain would lash out around them, and down here, if too much escaped, the storm might bring down the sewer roof and all that was built upon it.

Within her the rising whirlwind screamed his name "Kae Dhun" and she pulled him in, embracing all that he was, all that he had been. With him she killed the ancient known as Kritis with his own sword and brought the mountain down. With him she lay in the darkness until that sword was ripped from his grasp! But she could find the thief! She knew him! But first the sword! She found it in the keeping of O ro' dred and Nin. With a single stroke it was she who killed them both and roared into the whirlwind. Their voices were also part of the rising chorus! Now the life of the thief would be hers. She had him now! He would join his voice to theirs and be lost in the whirlwind! And all the while, she kept drawing in the quickening until she felt like a wineskin overfilled and ready to burst.

And still she pulled him in! She must not let the ceiling fall or they would be trapped in the earth again. Kritis was desperate to keep them all trapped in the earth... buried alive forever! She could hear him screaming to shut down and let the earth swallow them once more. About her she began to be aware of flashes of light and thunder as the leftover quickening began to lash out at the sewer walls and burst into flames. She made one final effort to pull it all in... she was so parched... and the quickening was like water in the desert! O ro' dred, Nin, Kae Dhun, Kritis were one! Power was hers! She was complete! Finally the storm subsided and she fell to the ground, her face buried in the muck.

In the silence that followed, she heard laughter within her head... laughter that drove away all sense. Slowly she sat up, gasping for air.

Darius leaned over her, "Eleanor... are you all right?" He reached to touch her.

Eleanor scrambled away. The voice inside screamed "Kill him! Kill him now! Make him one of us!"

"Nooo!" she answered. But the voice of Kae Dhun continued! He roared through her mind and it was as though she were being raped once more... but this time it was not her physical body, but her mind and soul that was the victim of the unrelenting assault!

She scrambled to her feet and backed away from Darius to stand flush with a wall. In her empty hands she could feel the slimy phosphorescent growth that covered it. She took several deep breaths, trying to regain her equilibrium.

Darius slowly took a step toward her, concern cross his face.

She turned to face the wall, still trying to control the urge to pick up the sword and do as Kae Dhun begged. "Kill him! Kill him now!"

She put her hands to her head and moaned, "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" She had to get out of here now! She had to get out of the earth! Eleanor turned and ran, slipping on the wet stones, and into the waters. She ran into the darkness screaming!

***

Hours later she found her way out and wandered through the darkened streets of a Paris still under lock down from the revolt. Most Parisians huddled in their homes. Of the few who were out, she saw mainly members of the armee' or the police. No one dared approach her. If they had she would have made them sorry. Oh yes... many would be sorry now. Eleanor smiled and cackled. The whirlwind in her mind laughed with her. "We make a good pair, you and I!" Kae Dhun said. The others agreed! He was in control! He was the strongest!

It was dark when she found Darius' church... she smiled! The thief was there. She could sense him... she would make him pay. She hesitated... her right hand clutched convulsively... she had no sword... no matter. She would simply rip his head off. She lowered her head and peered out under her gathered brows. She would have him now!

Like a hurricane she stormed into the church and felt the ground roll as it churned against her intent. She was not welcome here! Holy ground was not for her! She stormed through the church refusing to heed the warning, and beat on the thief's door screaming. "Come to me! Come to me now!" She scratched at the door like a cat. Splinters dug into her fingers. Then she beat on it once more.

Darius opened the door and stood looking at her with such pain and sadness in his eyes that for a moment she was herself again... but only for a moment. She reached for him... he did not resist. The ground shook harder! She looked around! She clasped one hand on his throat and then some sense of herself once more came back to her. "No!" said the soft voice of the Lady!

Eleanor dropped her hand and Kae Dhun laughed, once more in control! She grabbed hold of Darius' hand and pulled him behind her through the dark church! They would leave this place. Then she could kill him. He did not struggle. He came. Near the door, she became aware of another.

Out of the shadows stepped Phillip. "Let him go Little Sister! Let him go!" Phillip's voice was soft. There was no laughter there now. She could not beat Phillip... she had tried. She dropped Darius' hand and backed away from them both.

She felt drunk... drunk on the quickening! She staggered, she looked at both her friends, "Help me! I am so lost!"

Phillip came to her and wrapped her in a cloak. "I'm taking you back with me to Niebos. You'll be safe there. I won't let anyone harm you."

Eleanor turned to the priest, "Darius?" She reached for him. "I need you... Come with me..."

But Darius closed his eyes and turned away. She let Phillip lead her out of the church and into a gray dawn.

****


	5. Oracle

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Chapter Five

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Oracle

Niebos, Greece 2003

The cove was much as she remembered it. The small white sand beach, a tiny crescent against the rock face, sparkled at low tide. When the tide was high, there was no beach... the waves crashed against the cliffs with a roar. But now, they broke further out. Eleanor could see the spot where the surf crashed on the submerged rocks before flowing about them in the ebb tide. In the sea-spray, she could see the small sparkling rainbows that danced in the afternoon sun. Two thousand years ago... it must have been awe-inspiring to the superstitious pilgrims of that day.

By now she had reached the beach. Phillip dropped the backpack and spread wide his arms, slowly circling in an almost eerie reverie. He had been a boy in this place... for him, this was home... this was where the gods had once seemed to live. But the beach itself was not holy ground!

Beside her, Methos shrugged and shook his head, but said nothing. They were here... but for what purpose? What game was Phillip planning now?

Phillip waded into the surf a few inches, and then he turned around and beckoned to Eleanor to join him. She waded hesitantly into the water.

Phillip turned her to face the Aegean. He stood behind her... both of his hands lightly on her shoulders. He whispered, "Do this for me Little Sister. Walk out to the ledge. Please..." His voice drifted off, but she had heard the sadness in it.

It was the ledge that was holy ground. Not the beach... not the path... not the temple complex above. No... Eleanor knew... it was the submerged ledge of rock. She had never gone there. She had never dared! When she had been here before... she had known better than to attempt it. In later years... after she had regained some control... she still had felt uneasy. The grove in Paris had at long last finally felt safe again... but here... never here.

Phillip squeezed her shoulders... "Please Eleanor... I need for you to do this for me." She saw tears brimming in her old teacher's eyes. The sorrow of Carlo's loss was still with him after all. For all the easy banter of the last day... he was suffering... he needed this... perhaps more than he had ever needed anything from her. Eleanor gazed back at the surf. She took a deep breath and waded out onto the sandy spit and stepped lightly onto the rock ledge. She crossed to the far side of it... just where the waves crashed.

She felt the earth beneath her murmur her presence... but there were no upheavals. Eleanor lifted her arms in the sea spray and laughed at the sheer joy of the power of the ocean. Around her, the waves crashed and the rainbows danced accompaniment. Beneath her, the earth whispered gently as once it had whispered to her in the hidden grove in Paris. She spun around to face the shore once more. Within her... Aja stirred, but said nothing.

Phillip fell to his knees at the edge of the water and lifted his arms in supplication. His voice, speaking in the ancient Greek of his boyhood called out his question.

"Why?" He must have thought long and hard in the past few months... he must have spent days here... waiting for her to come... days to consider what his question would be. But Eleanor had no answers. Why? Why what? Why had Carlo died? Why were we immortal? Why?

Then, her eyes caught sight of the sparkling drops of seawater in the sunlight. She recognized their dancing and she knew what they were telling her.

She threw back her head and in a voice pitched to reach him above the sound of the surf replied in the same Greek, "Love endures! Love remembers!"

Phillip dropped his arms and settled back still kneeling... he covered his face with his hands and his shoulders shook from the force of his sobs.

Eleanor glanced at Methos. The old immortal looked at her with a question in his eyes, then also stepped forward into the water. But it was not a question he asked.

In a language she had never before heard, he called out to her, "el nor' alan mah ha re' tre..." But she knew what he was saying. It was her true name... all of it. The name the Lady had always whispered to her for as long as she could remember! The meaning of the last two patterns of the dance!

"_Then and now and for all time... all that is or was or ever will be... all are one_."

Eleanor threw her hands once more into the air and for a moment the power of the moment crackled about her. "Thou hast said it, Scholar!" she replied in the same ancient tongue! And within her Aja smiled.

****

Chapter 5A

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Seeking Truth

Paris 1815

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Eleanor awaited Darius' return eagerly. She had so much to tell him... so much to show her ancient friend. Her trip to the New World had been very rewarding. They had barely had time to say hello before some emergency had pulled him reluctantly away.

"Wait for me here, I will return shortly." His gentle smile had made her feel warm inside. She had missed him while she was away, and it surprised her just how much she had missed him.

Her trip to the Americas had lasted twenty years. For some people that was nearly a lifetime. But for them, it was little more than a moment. Still, she had eagerly looked forward to this day. Sitting in Darius' cell, among his many treasures, she felt at home... more at home than she had anywhere since before she had first died and had been ushered roughly into this immortal life.

She adjusted the smoked lenses she still wore. Her eyes were still, even after all this time, still sensitive to light. Edward and Phillip had each commented on the length of time that it had taken her to fully heal. She had merely shrugged and indicated that well... there had been a great deal of physical damage.

"Some of us take longer than others!" Edward had said, giving her a pensive look, but then he had changed the subject and that had been that. For the remainder of their trip... they simply had not mentioned her grotesque appearance...

She looked down at herself. She was carefully clothed in her favorite colors, dark gray and green. Her dark green gown, in the latest style of the day, was still hidden beneath her thin dark gray coat, which was banded at the hem with ribbons of dark green silk. Her bonnet of the same dark gray was lined with matching green silk so that it framed her face and showed nothing of her hair. She wanted to surprise him, so she was carefully covered. She had removed her gloves when checking on the kettle heating on the brazier. Ahh... it was heating nicely!

She had just started to tell Darius about the wonderful concoction the South American jungle natives called "chocolat" that she had brought for him, when he had been called away. Now she waited patiently for him to return. She had so much to tell him... so much to show him... but she could wait. 

She sensed his return and straightened in her chair. He was coming! But when she turned to smile... it was someone else! Someone she thought looked vaguely familiar.

The immortal hesitated at the door... obviously as confused by her presence as she was at his. He looked around, then smiled and stepped forward, "I'm Duncan MacLeod... Where's Brother Darius?"

Eleanor looked down and began to chuckle... a chuckle she tried to control. She slowly began to replace her gloves and button the small jet buttons. "Almost two hundred years and he still announces his name to every immortal he meets!" she thought. Plus... he obviously did not recognize her. This was just too rich! She had to get out of here before she revealed too much about herself. Before she broke out into laughter.

In what she hoped was a gracious and stately manner, befitting the lady she might once have been, Eleanor rose to make her way out of Darius' cell. She would have to return later when her fellow Scot was not here. Hearing the brogue in his voice, she was afraid her own would betray her origins. She seldom used it, she had long ago stopped even thinking in Gaelic... but hearing it brought so much back to her... no best to leave without saying a word.

Suddenly he reached out to her, his grasp touching her elbow oh so slightly. "Who are you...?"

Startled, she lashed out without thinking! Phillip's and Edward's training took over. She clasped her hand around his offending one, lifted it from her elbow and swiftly bent it back... back... back until she heard bones snap.

"Owww... there was no cause for that!" He cradled his hand but she knew the bones were likely already beginning to heal. Below her, she could sense the earth slightly reminding her where she was.

"I have to get out of here now!" she thought and backed away trembling. She was powerless here... it wasn't safe... holy ground was never truly safe... she had to leave. "Never turn your back on an opponent..." Edward had taught her long ago... so she backed away from him... then once inside the church proper she turned to hurry out. Already she could sense Darius on the far side of the door. He would stop the stranger. She had to go... anywhere else she could meet him... fight him... she could protect herself but not here.

By the time she had reached the door... Darius was there. Instantly he seemed to assess the situation.

"Tell your friend I am sorry... he startled me." Eleanor whispered to him.

"What did you do?"

"... Broke his hand!" she shook her head in apology, " I will be at home... come see me later if you wish. I do not think I will come back here while he is here."

"I think you can trust him..."

"I trust no one... not Edward... not Phillip... not even you sometimes. Why would I trust someone I do not know?"

"Nevertheless... I do not think he would hurt you. If you ever needed help... I think he would offer it."

"Perhaps... but I have to go... I have to get out of here now. Enjoy the chocolat." With that she left. Once back on the street, she made a circuitous way back to her rooms. She never went straight away... and she was always careful. Finally, she decided that no Watcher was following. By that time, she was calm once more.

She slipped into the covered passageway and unlocked the iron gate to the grove re-locking it behind her and pocketing the key. She was safe here. On this holy ground she was safe! Nothing bad could happen to her here. The gate was locked... no one was here but her... she was home and she was safe! She let out a long slow breath.

Slowly she climbed the hidden stairs to her rooms... the only rooms in what looked to the outside world like a three-story building with many windows. Other than the ground floor apartments that faced the street, and her own rooms above them, they were only walls meant to protect the grove with its bubbling spring... a spring to which she had reluctantly become one of its guardians.

Within her mind, the voice of her Lady whispered, "Home... one of the centers. Find the others... seek the answers... learn the truth." Eleanor sighed, "I only just got here... I'm not ready to leave yet. Please... not yet." and the voice was silent.

Darius slipped over after dark. She sensed him down by the spring and came down to greet him. He was sitting on the stones and letting some of the water splash over his hand. He glanced up at her, obviously pleased to see her.

"How is your friend?" Eleanor asked meekly as she approached him.

"He is fine... he also liked the chocolat... as did I! Most unusual... perhaps you will make some for me another time. I do not know if I did it quite right."

Eleanor settled onto the stones beside him. She had earlier removed her hat, coat, and eyewear. She sat there in her green silk dress close enough for him to see she looked as she always looked. "He ruined my plans! I wanted to surprise you! I finally healed."

"Of course you did... we all do... I still wonder why it took so long." Darius brushed her cheek softly smiling gently.

Eleanor shrugged, "It is different for all of us, I suppose. It was only my second death, you know."

"I had forgotten that... Come over tomorrow and meet my student Duncan properly! He comes most afternoons for lessons and chess." His eyes twinkled in merriment.

She grinned and leaned against his shoulder. His arm encircled her and clasped her gently. It felt so right to be here. Eleanor sighed, "No... I think not. I have much to do here. I need to catalogue and arrange all the artifacts and writings I brought back for you to study from this trip. Ooh Darius... you should have come with us. The New World is a vast untamed wilderness. One can travel for days without meeting another human being... much less one of us. It was just all so wonderful." She could not help but wish he had left here and come with them.

His other hand reached around her and he gave her a hug and sighed, "I am glad you got to go... although I missed you here."

"Did you? I missed you more... you are my dearest friend... I depend on you. You keep me honest... around you I am a better person." She reached up to give him a peck on the cheek.

Darius threw back his head and laughed. "Oh Eleanor... the things you say... the things you do." He regarded her solemnly. "I need to go... I have things to attend to... I will see you soon... come see me."

Eleanor smiled teasingly, "No... You come see me sometime. Or stay tonight..."

He kissed her forehead and then released her sadly. "I have other obligations... the world does not stop when you come to see me... although I sometimes wish it could." He nodded to the hidden door and was gone.

She sat by the spring for a long time after he left wondering just why it was this man always knew what to say to her to make her feel so at peace. "You are an enigma old one... that you are." Then she went up the stairs to her rooms and settled in for the night.

****

***

Chapter 5B

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Close Another Door

Paris 1795

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Eleanor could never remember being in so much pain. It was unending! Everything hurt! Everything was torture! Every touch! Every breath! Everything! She wanted to scream but her throat hurt too much! She wanted to cry... but even that was beyond her now... she wanted to die... and never be reborn! She wanted an end to this!

From a distance she could hear Darius, "You will heal Eleanor... you will heal... give it time. We all heal."

But she only wanted the pain to end!

Day became night and night became day... and still she wanted to scream and could not! She was thirsty, but no water could she swallow... nor food. And she could not close her eyes! Yet, at last she could sip water, she could tolerate the touch of the bed beneath her. But the pain nearly drove her mad.

Once more day became night, and night became day. Finally she pushed herself up off the bed and glanced around her room. Darius was not here... she had heard the bell tolling so she knew he had gone to perform mass for his congregation... perhaps it was Sunday already?

Carefully she swung her legs off the bed and stared at the still mutilated flesh. Burning to death was not a way anyone should ever have to go... nor return to. It was her immortality that was creating this torture. She should be dead!

She looked at her hands and saw still blackened claws. She raised them to her face. Once more, she felt only patches of scab and scar tissue. And she could not close her eyes. She had no eyelids left. She ran one hand over her scalp... her hair had also burned away in the blaze.

She should be healing faster Darius had said. But there was so much damage... perhaps that was what was taking so long. Even the water from the spring had not seemed to help. Perhaps it only worked on mortals. Carefully she stood up... her legs wanted to curl up but she forced herself upward. A small weak cry tortured its way from her throat. Tissue cracked and flaked away on her legs. Beneath the scabs were signs of new skin. Yes... she was healing. But even the healing was torture!

Gingerly she picked up her shawl and wrapped it loosely around her, shuddering at the feel of the cloth on the tortured and raw nerve endings. Eleanor went to sit in the chair by the window. She could see the church from here. She could see Darius when he came to the door after services. The light was almost too much for her. She covered her eyes with her hands and waited. She whimpered... and her throat wanted to scream its protest.

***

"Ahh... you are up... are you feeling any better?" Darius said as he came in. His concern was clearly evident in his voice.

"Be careful... someone will ask who you are visiting," she managed to say.

"I will tell them the marchioness requested my presence!" he laughed and she ventured a smile in return, instantly regretting the movement. It was one of their cover stories if he were seen coming out of the building.

"Better be careful Darius or that old mad woman will be the death of you!" she tried to smile this time, afraid to laugh just yet. The words came a little easier this time.

"Ahh... but she might be worth it." Suddenly serious, Darius placed the basket of food on the table near the chair. "I brought you some things. One of my parishioners still thinks the marchioness is secretly wealthy and will one day die and leave all her wealth to the kind woman who sends her baskets of food." He smiled and shrugged. "Let me see how you are managing."

She let him remove the shawl and examine her. She winced at his touch. He shook his head, then he carefully recovered her. "This is taking far too long. I do not know what the reason is. But you are healing."

Eleanor suddenly covered her face with her hands and wanted to weep. "Don't look at me! I'm a monster now!"

"Never!" he said gently and sat on the edge of the vacant bed. "As soon as you are able though, you will need to leave this place. Time for a new life once more." He smiled at her warmly. She saw no disgust or pity in his face... only concern.

She tried once more to smile. "I did have a letter from Phillip last week. He suggested we three or four," she emphasized the last word, "should sail to the New World and check it out. He and Edward have been there before... but not in some time. I have never been. Phillip wrote that he heard there was much going on there. I wasn't going to go... it's not a wake... just an adventure... a chance for him to show me a part of the world I have never seen. He thought he might convince Edward to go also... I wasn't going because of this Watcher business... but now... I suppose I should." She was surprised she had strung together so many words. Already the rawness in her throat was finally fading away.

Darius nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, it would not do for the Watchers to suddenly see you up and about, not after dying in such a spectacular fashion. Whatever made you run in to that inferno?"

"I heard children crying! Did any get out?"

"Not that I am aware of." Darius shook his head sadly.

"Then it was for nothing?"

"It would have been for nothing if you had not tried. It is never for nothing when we act from the heart for the benefit of others. However... you do tend to go charging in without carefully considering the consequences of your actions. You simply react to the perils about you. But that is what makes you so very special. Your heart is always in the right place. Perhaps..." he smiled gently, " that is why you are such a terrible chess player. You just move the pieces but never understand or consider what will happen next."

"Perhaps..." She nodded slightly... already exhausted by the conversation.

"Well then," Darius said slapping his palms to his thighs. "It is settled. I will contact Phillip for you and we will set everything in motion for you to travel with him to the Americas. Perhaps Edward will join you after all."

He rose to leave, then turned and smiled, "But I will miss you Eleanor... I will miss you more than I can say."

"Ahh... but old one, I will miss you more!" This time, her smile did not hurt.

***

****

Chapter 5C

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Who Watches the Watchers?

Paris 1789

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Eleanor slipped through the shadows of the Paris night, in a hurry to get back to Darius' church. She had to tell him what she had just seen... what she had just learned... he was likely no longer safe in Paris. He needed to leave this place... he needed to vanish and start a new life somewhere else! If he still persisted in being a pacifist, no matter... she would go with him and protect him. But he needed to be aware of what was going on.

She glanced around carefully as she came close to the church. She paused just inside the sphere of acknowledgment that let him know an immortal was close by... yes he was there. She had been concerned he might be out on one of his occasional jaunts about the city... the ones he sometimes took at night. But he was here.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Now to be certain no one was following her! Once she was certain...she crossed the street and entered the darkened church.

"Is something wrong Eleanor?" He met her at the door to his cell and then stepped back to admit her. She brushed past him and began to pace.

"People know about us... I need to get you to safety!"

"People?... Us? What are you saying?"

I don't know... but... " She took a deep breath and began to explain.

"I was over on the Rue Madame, near the Luxembourg Gardens, I needed to finish up some things down there... I still had some loose ends." She shrugged.

"You should not have gone... remember you are "dead" to them there."

" I didn't die and you know it. I was careful... besides... I don't look as I did then." She smiled wanly, shaking her once again dark hair falling thickly over her shoulders. "Anyway... I heard swords. I went to observe... I was still far enough way..." she continued over his objection. "A mortal pulled me into a dark doorway... I restrained the urge to attack him." she smiled sheepishly, "I didn't want the others to know I was there. The mortal shushed me and continued to watch the others."

"Did you recognize them?"

"I think one was your old friend Grayson."

Darius sadly shook his head. He settled himself in one of the chairs. He seemed almost fearful what she would say next.

"No... old one... he survived... I didn't really get a look at the other one."

"I still hope one day he will move beyond his hatred... beyond his need for revenge." Eleanor could hear the pain in his voice. She was likely the only one he had ever opened up to about Grayson. She knew what they had been to one another and how much it still pained him that they had parted on such bad terms. What was it Edward had taught her once? Ahh... yes... "Student kills teacher... or teacher kills student." Yes... that was where Darius and Grayson had parted ways... before that could happen.

"The mortal, Darius... he saw the quickening. And I think he's seen them before."

"Likely a Watcher." Darius shrugged.

"A what?"

"A Watcher... an old organization of mortals whose members watch and record our lives. Have I never mentioned them?"

Eleanor shook her head. Darius rose and rummaged through a drawer. He pulled out a medallion and tossed it to her.

"When you see a mortal with one of those... he is a Watcher."

Eleanor turned the old medallion over in her hands. The strange symbol was not one she had ever seen before... but she would remember it. She tossed it back to him.

"Explain!"

She settled herself in the chair while Darius heated some water for tea and explained the Watchers to her. Long ago a few mortals had become aware of the immortals among them and had begun to watch them, recording all that they saw. They were sworn to secrecy, they would not interfere, they were of no danger to the immortals that they watched.

Eleanor shook her head, "Anyone can be a danger if they know how to kill us! You should leave here! You are far too visible and accessible!"

"Why would they come for me? I am no threat to any of them! Besides, I am on holy ground!"

"In my experience... mortals do not necessarily respect holy ground..." she shuddered recalling the events, which had led to her own rape and first death. "It is only from one of us you are safe here."

"Would it matter so much if I did die?" he remarked thoughtfully. Then smiled at the thought as though he were remembering something, "All of us die, even we immortals... everyone dies when the task is complete." He glanced up at her and she wondered if the ancient within were speaking through him again.

"I couldn't bear it! I would miss you!"

"Ahh... Eleanor... I would miss you more." And Darius smiled. For a moment they sipped the tea and all was quiet.

"So old one..." she said brightly, breaking the silence, " what do I do now... watch for people following me?"

"Actually... I do not think they have noticed you yet... they usually don't until you have taken a quickening and entered the game. And you haven't... have you? Oh they may make notes about you here through the centuries... but you change your appearance and disappear from here so often... I do not think they have yet put it together."

"Would there be a way to find out?"

Darius leaned thoughtfully back in the chair. "Perhaps... did the Watcher you met seem to know you? What did he say?"

"He told me to forget what I had seen. I pretended it was an angel fighting a demon..." she shrugged, "or some such nonsense. He gave me an address and told me if I had questions to come talk to him there." She removed the slip of paper from her small cloth bag and handed it to Darius.

Darius thoughtfully read the address. "Yes, that is one of their gathering places. They have a number of what they call "Chronicles" there, histories of us."

"You have been there, then?"

"Not I... they know my face... it would not be a good idea... They would likely move again to another area. But you...?" He gazed directly at her as if pondering a plan. "Perhaps you could get inside their ranks... perhaps you could become my Watcher."

"Yours?"

"Brother Bernard who died yesterday was one."

"Bernard?"

"Yes... for many years. Did you never wonder why I often sent him on errands when I knew you were lurking about?" He smiled. "He was a good friend. I enjoyed his company."

"But... I only know the one..."

"They are missing many of their members now. The Revolution has so taken many lives and their ranks are depleted. I believe the Watcher you met may be trying to recruit you into their organization. Let him. Find out what they know... you can be my eyes and ears inside their walls."

"Even if I was recruited, why would they let me Watch you?"

"Because you, or the new you will be a member of my congregation. A valued parishioner as have been others before you! Perhaps they will let you stay on here without too much training since you are already here." He smiled archly. "Yes... that might work... you and I could write a Chronicle for them that would last forever." He nodded as if talking to someone she could not here, "Yes, that just might work."

"So who shall I be?"

"Why not your young friend Rachelle Brunot..."

Eleanor started... yes that might work. She and Rachelle looked enough alike that it might just work. She had not yet had a chance to inform Rachelle's family of the girl's fate. She smiled and leaned forward to help plan their next move. She was eager to know these new Watchers and find out their secrets. This would be interesting.

***

****

Chapter 5D

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The Power of Sacrifice

Paris 1789 

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The angry mob swept past Eleanor with a vengeance. When the mob ruled Paris, only chaos reigned. Eleanor pressed herself against the wall to keep from being pulled along with them. The last thing she needed was to end up wherever they were going. She had other concerns and other duties. Both of which did not include this madness which seemed to have taken over the city.

Granted, the people had ample reason to be angry and to expect change... but this was a violence that seemed to have no end and no restraint. And... they were getting entirely too free with that monstrosity called the guillotine. To anyone it was a horror... to an immortal who could only die by being beheaded... it was a terror. She feared what would happen to any immortal too near "Madame la Guillotine" if another of their kind were caught in its embrace! She definitely wished to stay far away from the Place de la Gre've!

Once they had passed her by, Eleanor checked in both directions and made her way into the side street where the room she was currently using for a while was located. She had found it easier to stay down here some of the time so that she was not always crossing from one end of Paris to the other.

Here she was Marie-Claudette... a midwife and healer to the prostitutes of this sector. They came to her when they needed help... when they needed money... when they needed a place to stay. They knew she would look out for them. She had dyed her hair gray beneath her dust cap so that most of the pimps would not give her a second glance... thinking she was too old for their attentions... and if they bothered her... well she dealt with them. She was never without her knife.

As she reached her room, she saw the young prostitute Rachelle Brunot waiting. This one was a country girl. She had come to Paris a few months back hoping to find work and a more exciting life than the one in her country village. What she had found was life on the street. Eleanor was still trying to convince her to get off the streets. She was already teaching her to read and write a bit so that if she could get her out of this place... the girl would have some learning that she could use to better herself. Rachelle was still pretty... and she had not yet lost all of her girlish charm.

"Bonjour Rachelle!" Eleanor offered as she unlocked her door to admit the dark-haired young woman. "And how are we today?"

"C'est la vie," the girl shrugged. "One day is much like another for me."

"Would you care for some tea? I have some herb mixtures here that are quite good. I will be making some for myself."

The girl shrugged as she removed her hat and shawl. "If it is no bother." Something was on her mind.

"Speak cherie... whatever it is... perhaps I can help."

Eleanor sat down across from the girl who was trembling slightly. "It's Courleche'." she finally said. "He is angry at me for spending time with you instead of working. He says he will kill you."

Eleanor shrugged, "He can try... I am a bit more formidable than I appear." She smiled at the girl, then went to remove the kettle from the fire. She casually steeped the tea and poured two cups... one for her and one for the girl. "Do not let it trouble you. Here, drink this."

"But Madame... he is a very dangerous man and he has many friends!" 

Eleanor was touched by the young woman's concern. "He will not kill me," she said. "Many have tried and many have failed." She reached over and tucked a lock of the girl's dark hair that had fallen over her eyes behind her ear. She was such an innocent!

Their talk turned then to the riots and finally to the task at hand. She handed Voltaire's "Candide" to the girl and suggested they start on today's lesson. She listened to the girl haltingly read a brief passage aloud. She was improving. Then as always, she stopped and they discussed it. Rachelle had a quick mind and an eagerness to understand that Eleanor only vaguely remembered from her own past.

A few hours later, the girl left and Eleanor settled in for the night... she ate some hard cheese and some old bread... wishing she had some fruit... but with the riots... little produce was coming into Paris. She might have to take a small journey to the countryside soon and replenish some supplies. She removed her hidden knife and placed it under the pillow, at hand in case she needed it, then lay down still clothed on her small pallet to sleep.

Several hours later Eleanor was awakened by the sound of beating on her door! "Madame... Madame!" It was Rachelle. Eleanor quickly rose and opened the door to admit the frightened girl. "He is coming for you Madame... you must go!" The girl pulled her out of the room and shoved her before her. "Find somewhere to go!"

Eleanor reached for her knife but immediately realized it was not there. She had inadvertently left it beneath the pillow. She turned to go back for it.

Rachelle blocked the way, "You must go... Madame please!" Then she looked fearfully behind Eleanor and drew in a sharp breath.

Eleanor glanced behind her to see Courleche' and his gang of ruffians. They leered at both the women and swung their cudgels. Eleanor turned and readied herself. She could just let them do what they wanted... wait and heal... but she feared what they might do to the girl if she failed to protect her. No... she would have to fight them... her bare hands against their cudgels. She was not certain she could manage that. But she would try!

She focused on the biggest of the men... the one who seemed the most eager to attack. Courleche' hung back, as if he were there only to observe. She waited for the big man to commit himself to an attack, then she deftly countered, relieving him of his cudgel and swinging it at his head. Thus armed... she smiled and turned her attention to her other attackers. This could be fun!

Soon she thought it was over. Wiping the blood from her mouth with an almost absent motion she yelled curses at the men as they ran stumbling and disarmed away from her. Satisfied she turned to see Rachelle lying in a heap on the pavement.

Instantly her satisfied mood evaporated. Eleanor dropped the cudgel and ran to kneel beside the fallen girl. Rachelle's skull was bloodied and one eye was blood red and nearly swollen shut. Blood dripped from her ears. She had clearly received a deathblow during the altercation.

Eleanor could do nothing for her, but ease her passage. She held the girl gently and murmured into Rachelle's ear, hoping she could still hear her. "Ahh...cherie..."

Rachelle opened her one good eye. As she spoke, dark blood dribbled from her mouth, "You are well then... I did rightly... I saved you..." She closed her good eye.

Eleanor whispered, "You did well mon fille... sleep and rest now... sommeil mon fille. You need no longer suffer. Shh..."

"I should have liked to have finished "Candide"... to have written my parents a letter... to have made a good life... this is better... I have saved your life." The girl's voice drifted away and Eleanor knew she was gone.

***

Standing at the girl's unmarked grave in the cemetery near Darius' church... Eleanor could not help but feel the guilt. "It was my fault she died. Mine that she never had even a single lifetime. Whatever do I tell her parents?"

"Granted she did not know you were an immortal, but do not lessen her death just because it was needless. As far as she was concerned, your life was infinitely more precious to her than her own. She needed to believe she had saved you... that her sacrifice had meaning."

"But it was for nothing..." Eleanor shook her head. "Now she lies here and her family will never see her grow old or bear children or have even a simple life."

"No... but perhaps in her death she found a purpose in life."

Eleanor glanced up at her teacher's words. There was an undercurrent there that she did not understand. Then she sighed heavily. "I suppose I shall have to invent a story for her... so that her family never learns what life she had here. I fear they would neither approve nor understand."

"As you think best," Darius replied.

The two then walked slowly through the small cemetery. At the door to his church, he gave her a brief hug, then entered. 

Eleanor watched him go with a heavy heart. She was still struggling with his words. Perhaps it was the ancient within him speaking again. Sometimes she saw glimpses of the old one in some of the things he did and said. Her own inner voice sometimes said some of the same words that his said... as if they were old truths those two old ones had once shared. The voice of her Lady whispered, "Ahh... that boy always surprised me!" 

Eleanor shrugged. There were other things she needed to do this night... plans to make to begin a new life in another part of town. She must be about her task. With a lighter step she headed out into the street and off to another part of Paris.

****


	6. Trinity

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Chapter Six

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Trinity

Niebos, Greece 2003

Eleanor waded ashore. She was still a little giddy from the experience, or perhaps it was her sleeplessness and fatigue finally catching up with her. But she wanted to dance once more with those whom she had always loved. She hopped through the surf and when she reached the shore, she grabbed Methos' hands and started dancing about him. Slowly, still a bit cautiously, he joined in the movements. For a moment, it was almost like old times... almost like that first time they had danced together. She looked at him brightly and threw back her head in laughter. Finally she was rewarded with a smile.

Then she reached down to Phillip and urged him to join in. The two of them had never danced together, nor had the three of them ever attempted this. Always, she would dance with Methos... or she would join Phillip in the dance of sparring... that inside out, upside down reflection of the dance. But never had the three of them just danced together as one.

And for a moment there were the three of them... hand in hand in hand, on a spit of sand, on the edge of a great sea. Round and round they danced and laughed, twisting in and out in a pattern that was familiar yet ever different... the pattern of life... the dance of life. 

Once they stepped the final two symbols they collapsed onto the sandy beach laughing. The tide was just beginning its inward journey. Before too much longer, the small beach would vanish below the waves for a few hours. Then the tide would turn again and the beach would slowly emerge once more.

For once... when Phillip began telling tales of Danae, oracle of Poseidon, naiad of Ocean... immortal and teacher... Methos did not groan. Instead when he had a chance he spoke at last of Aja...Priestess of Nut... Voice of the Goddess... The Lady of Living Water Who Brings Life to the Desert. Much of it he had never spoken of to anyone except to Eleanor. One and the same... the riddle that had touched each of their lives in some way. Finally they were quiet. 

"Darius knew her too." Eleanor said quietly. It was the first time she had uttered his name since arriving.

Phillip sat up.

"Why am I not surprised," said Methos softly. "I always thought there was some reason we didn't take his head that day... some reason we let him live."

"Tell us... " Phillip encouraged.

"There's not much to tell. I am not a teller of tales like the two of you... as you may well recall! A wandering woman came to the encampment where he grew up and hired him to help her search for a lost sword that she said had belonged to her brother. He found it for her under the earth... he took it from the hands of a man who lay dead but who grabbed at him when he took the sword. He gave it to the woman he knew as Anya and then she gave it back to him. She told him, that as long as he wielded that blade, he would never die. After his first death, he figured it was the sword that made it so."

"So that's where he got that thing!" Phillip said. "Wonder why she gave it to him?"

"He said it was because it had no power over him as it did with most of us. How did you end up with it, Methos?" Eleanor asked. "It was that sword you were carrying when we first met."

"O ro' dred and Nin wanted it in my keeping for a time while they were traveling. I gave it back to them later. I never wanted that thing... but over the years every time I saw it... someone was always offering it to me, asking me if I wanted it." Methos shivered. "I always thought there was too much blood on it!"

"But you used it when you had it!" responded Phillip, nodding in the memory of a certain quickening to which he had been witness.

"Oh yes, it had a very keen edge. It was a very thirsty sword." Methos shivered again. "Do you know where it is now Eleanor?"

She smiled but said nothing.

A wave crashed over them. "We need to head back or we'll be swimming home!" Phillip said rising. He retrieved his backpack from the edge of the surf and led the way back to the harbor side of the island. Almost reluctantly, Methos and Eleanor followed. She almost felt at peace... but there were still some shadows she needed to deal with... perhaps tonight... perhaps.

Chapter 6

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In Mead, There is Memory

Paris 1634

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"This is a mistake," Eleanor insisted as the three of them stopped not far from Darius' church on the Rue St. Jacques. They were just far enough away that they couldn't feel him, nor could he feel them, they hoped.

"Nonsense... mead is just what we need to polish off this evening!" Phillip insisted.

"What if he's not there?" Edward's voice sounded strangely odd. She was not certain what was going on with him... but she was far too drunk to argue. She really did need to pace herself better during these parties. One of these days, she feared, things could get out of hand. She shook her head, but groaned at the throb of a headache just starting.

"He's always here..." But she knew he wasn't always there... especially at night. Especially when he slipped out for his errands or his research. But that was a secret she had sworn to keep.

"So what's the plan?" Phillip turned to Edward. "You're the problem solver... I just set the agenda..." Beneath his broad brimmed Musketeer's hat his eyes sparkled in amusement.

"If he's there we will insist on the mead... if not..." Edward smiled in the darkness, "I am certain Eleanor knows where he keeps it. Right?"

She nodded reluctantly.

Phillip put out his hand. Edward and Eleanor did the same. "Then we are agreed and together!" he said and all three laughed. Arm in arm in arm... they rushed down and across the street, through the gate and into the church. Ahh... Darius was there! This should be interesting!

Unusually, there were some candles lit and flickering in what should have been a dark church. Darius stood waiting for them before the altar, his hands hidden within the sleeves of his robe, he shook his head patiently as the three of them stormed through the door and up to the chancel rail, laughing drunkenly all the way.

Phillip drew his rapier. "We are here for the mead, Brother! Surrender it or we will not leave!" Then all three of them nearly collapsed in gales of laughter.

"Eleanor... what is this madness... people have been worried about you these last few weeks. And look at you..." he gestured at her, seemingly upset at her male attire as one of the King's Musketeers. "And you two, you are old enough to know better. This behavior is not good for any of you. Go home!"

"Not until you share the mead! Refuse and we will stay for morning mass... and disrupt the service." Edward bowed ever so courteously. The three of them nearly collapsed once more in laughter.

The immortal priest shook his head and let out a deep sigh. "Very well..." He turned and moved something behind the altar and a stone near it moved revealing a hole in the stone floor. "It's in the crypt." He stood to one side and motioned to them.

Phillip was the first one down, practically bounding down the steep stone stairs into the small damp crypt. In the glow of the candlelight he spied three casks on stools immediately. He lifted the oiled cloth over one and sniffed the aroma. "Ahh... mead!"

Edward entered more cautiously. He was not likely so drunk as he would have them believe, Eleanor knew him far too well. Well, she wasn't quite as drunk as she pretended either... not quite. She was the last of the trio to climb down. She knew the way all too well... but they did not need to know that. Darius followed her.

Phillip found some cups laying about and dipped out some of the precious liquid. He sipped. "Good! Oh... oh... oh... Very good!" He refilled the cup and passed it to Edward who drank and held it in his mouth as if trying to recall the last time he had mead. "Excellent!" He passed his cup back to Phillip who decided to play barkeep and began filling all the cups.

When he passed one to Darius, The priest raised a hand to refuse... but Phillip insisted. "It is your mead, after all."

"Nice of you to remember that!" Darius took the cup and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He sipped at the golden honeyed nectar.

Eleanor found a seat on one of the stone steps. Phillip looked about and flung himself on a pile of rags stacked in a corner.

Edward looked around, "There is nothing to sit on."

Darius smiled, "There is always the floor. Besides I was not expecting guests."

"Well perhaps you should... it has been too long since you drank with us." Phillip groused and downed another cup. "Ahhh!"

"So..." Edward began. "What's tonight's plan... now that we have successfully lifted the mead!" he snorted a bit drunkenly at his turn of phrase.

"Stories... we shall tell stories!" Phillip suggested with a hearty laugh! "He who tells the best story wins the prize! Shall I start?"

The other three groaned. They all knew how he loved to tell stories and that unless curbed, he would go on all night. However, they agreed. If he were telling stories... they could drink the mead. And so the game began.

***

"A few weeks ago, Eleanor and I met in Normandy. I wanted to give her a refresher course, show her some new moves, work on an appropriate disguise for her," Phillip gestured at Eleanor. "You may have noticed the applied facial hair... took me hours to get that right! Anyway... a most unpleasant fellow immortal accosted us!

"He came riding in at a gallop! He was a boor, I tell you, an absolute boor! After all... who among us would ride into another immortal's camp, leap off his horse, draw his sword and announce 'I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod!' without so much as a 'By your leave!'" Phillip sputtered and shook his head. "All Little Sister and I wanted to do was eat a quiet dinner while waiting for you Antoninus... Edward... whatever you call yourself these days. You were late! And this boor of a Highlander interrupted our dinner. What manners!" Phillip filled another cup for himself.

"Perhaps he was very young!" Darius offered.

"Young, yes... but he knew the rules! Trouble was he must have thought he needed to challenge every immortal he met. Good way to lose his head!"

"So what did you do?" Edward asked.

"I agreed to fight him... you should have seen the look on his face when I assumed first position with a pheasant leg bone in my hand instead of a sword! Even Eleanor could not contain her laughter."

"I was trying so hard not to laugh I thought I would fall over. He was just so damned earnest about it. 'You canno' fight me with that!' he said." her imitation of the Scotsman's brogue brought peals of laughter.

"Who is telling this story?" Phillip said sharply, but he smiled at her. "Anyway... I looked down at the bone as if in surprise, shrugged, tossed it to Eleanor and she tossed me my sword. In one pass I disarmed him, had him prone in the dirt, with his sword and mine at his throat. Then I tossed mine back to Eleanor... told him he was rude and took his head." He threw back his head in laughter.

"He's lying..." Eleanor laughed. "The Scotsman made crude remarks about the lack of size of Phillip's rapier as compared to his claymore. Phillip told him it was not the size of the sword but the skill of the swordsman and then he disarmed him... but he didn't take his head."

"Why not?" asked Darius.

"I felt sorry for him... these young ones need guidance. I think he might have just recently been on his own."

"So what happened next?" Edward motioned for another cupful of the mead. "He was still standing when I rode up. I wasn't certain what was going on at that point."

"Ahh..." continued Phillip, "I gave him back his sword and returned to my dinner. When he insisted once more... I let Eleanor have a go at him. I told him my student needed the practice." He slapped his leg and laughed heartily. "Obviously he was no more successful against her than against me. She had him prone in the dirt twice before you got there. When you paused at the edge of the glade I dismissed her to join you. You really should have joined us and met him instead of riding off with her."

"I tend to avoid meeting young immortals as often as I can. There can be too many unforseen consequences. Besides... I am not always certain these games of yours with them are for the best."

"At any rate, after you two left, I asked the Highlander to join me around the fire. I think he finally got the message."

"And what message was that?" Darius asked.

"Why, not to automatically attack every one of us he sees. It would get him killed... but it was the expression on his face after he asked me how long the boy had been my student that I played the trump card!"

"And what trump card was that... that he was a she?" smirked Edward, remembering the rather lusty kiss he had planted on Eleanor when she had raced over to greet him.

"Oh no..." Phillip chuckled, " That secret I kept... It was that I'd had the same student for almost eight hundred years but that he still had much to learn." Phillip's laughter had taken on a teasing tone and he saluted Eleanor with his mead.

"The next morning I taught him a few moves... and sent him on his way so I could rejoin you two and we could get on with our party."

"Must mean you thought you saw something about him you liked." murmured Darius.

"His style reminded me of Ramirez."

"Do you think he was Ramirez' last student? asked Eleanor.

"Nah... too young! But maybe a student of a student! Anyway... I have more fun beating opponents than taking heads these days... it all gets rather old hat... so who's next."

"I'll go," said Methos sipping thoughtfully at the mead. He smiled across the crypt at Eleanor, arched his eyebrows and then said to Darius, "Did she ever tell you about what happened at the court of the English king in 1453?"

"No!" groaned Eleanor in mock protest "not that tale." She hung her head sheepishly. "Please not that one... will I never live that down?"

"What happened," asked Darius, amusement showing in his twinkling eyes.

"Ohh... Little Sister was in fine form..." interjected Phillip.

"Do you mind?" Methos tossed the empty cup to Phillip for a refill. "I did not interrupt you during your story."

Phillip indicated he would be quiet as he refilled the mead cup.

"We three had decided to get into the tower of London and steal one of the jewels there... a great worthless crystal that had somehow ended up in the collection."

"Why a worthless crystal?" asked Darius, but Eleanor saw he was thinking of something. She knew him well enough that she thought she could tell when he was trying to get information out of someone. But Edward was not an easy man to get information from.

"Because it was big and worthless and I didn't think anyone would miss it! Now may I continue..." They nodded for him to do so.

"Anyway... we were on one of the galleries overlooking the hall where there were musicians playing a madrigal and couples dancing and courtiers bowing and people being polite. In the warm glow of the torches, tapestries fluttered on the walls. The smells of roast boar and fine wine filled the air... It was an English court." He shrugged as if that were all to say about it. "We were in our guise as Lord and Lady Gray and her brother the Earl of Madison." Edward bowed his head slightly to Eleanor and a brief smile passed between them. "We were overlooking the scene and getting our bearings."

"That's when the young popinjay showed up," Phillip could hardly contain himself. He dipped out another cup of mead, knocked over the empty cask and sat on the stool.

"My story... mine!" Edward insisted.

"Oh all right!" Phillip leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. "But get to the good part. We don't need all this thoughtful construction of events and description of the court. You take entirely too much time to get to the point!"

Edward sighed, "Oh very well...We felt him enter the dance floor and like a fool he stopped and looked around... desperately trying to locate us."

"He was so funny looking!" Eleanor laughed, "I felt sorry for him. His eyes traveled all over the court and he jerked around as he tried to locate just where we were. Finally he happened to look up and saw me smiling down at him." Eleanor batted her eyes.

"Who is supposed to be telling this story?"

"Fine... tell it!" Eleanor snorted.

"Phillip and I had moved back so he wouldn't see us. Eleanor smiled down at him and indicated to us that she would take care of him. After all, we didn't want to leave any witnesses to our activities behind. We had to be certain of who he was and what he wanted. We felt she was best equipped to deal with him. With our backup, of course!"

Darius nodded, "Of course!"

"We followed her as she met with him in a deserted hallway. He flirted, she slapped his face and pulled her knife. She had him against the wall when we joined her to flank him on either side.

"'My lords, my ladies,' he said, 'there is no call for this... it was a harmless flirtation. I shall withdraw!'

"I told him too late, he had seen our faces! He offered to help us in any way he could. to make a long story short...We agreed and decided to use him as lookout and foil if we ran in to any problems. Of course he thought he was actually joining in our activities."

"So what was so horrible that Eleanor did?" Darius' question suddenly brought peals of laughter and guffaws from the other two men. Eleanor lowered her face into her hands and shook her head. She knew her face was red.

"After we had stolen the crystal, and just before we parted company, Little Sister pulled her knife and warned the fool if he ever so much as mentioned any of us to anyone...ever... she would know of it and would remove an important appendage." Phillip interjected at last.

"His head?" Darius shrugged.

Again the men howled in laughter. "Well, at the time, her knife was pointing just a little bit further down." Edward commented. Suddenly Phillip and Edward both crossed their legs and looked meaningfully at Darius.

"It was an accident... I swear!" Eleanor wished the floor would open up and swallow her. "The knife slipped... I didn't mean to stab him."

Darius looked at her and arched his eyebrows. Then he threw back his head and laughed heartily.

"Well at least he healed." Edward said at long last. "But I don't think he will ever get that close to an immortal female again. And I don't think he will ever mention us to anyone."

"Who was this immortal?" Darius wanted to know, finally regaining his composure.

"Hugh Fitz...? What was that name?" Phillip shook his head. "No matter... we just called him Fitz after that." And Phillip and Edward convulsed once more in laughter!

"That's not fair you two. Both of your stories make fun of me."

"No..." Phillip chuckled while refilling his cup and looking to see who else needed a refill. "We were having fun at the green ones' expense... and you just happened to have been part of it. Now who's next?"

"Perhaps I should go next," Darius grinned suddenly. "Did I ever tell you Eleanor how I met these two?"

"No... well at least I won't be in this one! Or will I... You did know them long before I showed up here didn't you."

"I was very young and very much like these new ones they love to make fun of. This will be a story on me." Darius smiled and shrugged. "Call it my gift to you this evening, to repay you for telling them about the mead."

Eleanor tossed her cup to Phillip for a refill. This had better be good!

"I was an earnest young warrior... I had been immortal perhaps one hundred years or so. I was very good in battle... very intense and focused. I moved across the battlefield hacking and slashing my way through mortals as if they were only sheep to be slaughtered."

"This doesn't sound promising," Edward said tossing his cup to Phillip. "We don't want serious stories."

"Ahh... but it gets better as you well recall..." Darius also tossed Phillip his cup for a refill. When he had it, he continued, "In the middle of a battle, I realized an immortal stood before me." He gestured at Phillip. "He was slaying mortals as if he were bored with the whole process... he was a skilled warrior. He moved his sword as if it were part of him and he seemed to dance in the movement."

"Yes and you were a bloody barbarian!" Phillip broke in. "No skill... just slash and hack... slash and hack."

"My story...?" Darius paused and Phillip lowered his head.

"Where were you Edward?" Eleanor wanted to know. 

"On a hillside watching." He shrugged. "I saw no sense in being in the midst of the battle. Too much chance of being killed with all that 'slashing and hacking' going on." He shuddered, then moved one of the mead casks off a stool to sit on it... obviously tired of the cold damp floor.

"Are you quite through interrupting!" asked Darius. "Now then... where was I... oh yes... this strange and very skilled immortal looked at me, sliced another mortal in half and suggested we go elsewhere to conclude our business."

"No... no... no... you left out a part!" Phillip sat up suddenly.

"I did not... I'm getting to it. I decided to run him through but he swiftly disarmed me and walked off to the hillside carrying my sword. Since I was in the midst of a battle without a weapon... I thought I should follow him. At least out of the way of the battle we could conduct our affairs in secret. Along the way I picked up another sword... but I wanted mine back." Darius paused to take another sip of his mead.

"When we got to the hilltop I met... Antoninus." Darius gestured at Edward. "He eyed me warily. Phillip suggested we wait until the battle ended so I joined them for a drink. One drink led to another... By the time the battle was over, we parted and went our separate ways. And... I had my sword back!" Darius smiled and sat back looking satisfied.

Eleanor was ready to hit him, "How? No one obviously took anyone's head?"

He winked at the other two men, who were chuckling in their mead, "Who is to say I did not take their heads and they are figments of the mind?"

Eleanor tossed her cup at him. "What happened?"

"See gentlemen, you have to leave them wanting more... leave something to the imagination... that's what makes it a good story!"

"We decided," said Edward, "that he would make a worthy addition to our group and he partied on and off with us until his life here took over. When he stopped leaving this," Edward gestured about the crypt, "to join us... we tried to join him here a few times but nothing was ever the same. Until tonight!" Edward raised his cup to Darius and smiled.

The three men chuckled at whatever they were remembering and Eleanor felt totally left out. She grumbled, only slightly peeved. "I do not know why I put up with you three old men..."

At that they looked at her and laughed riotously once more. Once they finally settled down once more they each grinned at her and with one voice whooped, "Your turn!" That caused another fit of laughter from them as if, once again, they were recalling another time...another party... another joke to which she was not a party.

She shook her head. Story telling was just not something she wanted to do, nor could she do it well. But there was something she wanted. "I want to dance! My story is in the dance." She stood in the center of the crypt and began stepping and twirling. Edward had earlier located a small lute near where he was sitting and now began playing it, tuning strings as he did so. Eleanor stopped. Something was not quite right.

She tossed the plumed hat into the corner then looked down. "Boots... I need these boots off..." She hopped on one foot and removed the huge boot and threw it in a corner. Then did the same with the other. Her stocking clad feet wriggled on the stone floor. Ahh... that was better. She tried to twirl and step again. She stopped to remove her sword and buckle, and then ripped off the doublet and coat, pulling loose her white shirt so that it flowed about her. "Better and better," she thought. "Just one more thing..." She pulled off the fake mustache and goatee that had taken Phillip hours to apply to her face, wadded it into a ball and tossed it with her other things. Now she was ready! She nodded at Edward, squared her shoulders and began to dance.

After the first tune ended and she moved into the next, she pulled at Darius' hands. "Dance with me... you never dance with me anymore."

"I do not dance Eleanor."

"Ohh... you dance... you do not dance well... but you dance!" She pulled insistently and he rose and tried to join in the dance, a bit awkwardly. Soon he was moving at her side as if he had always done so.

Suddenly Eleanor screamed and jumped up onto the stone stair... she pointed at something scurrying in the corner along the wall. "Rat! ... Rat! ... Rat!"

Edward and Phillip laughed at that point. Darius met her gaze solemnly. For them the mood had broken.

"What's wrong with the rat?" finally asked Phillip wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Plague." she answered huddling on the stairs. "During the plague they were everywhere."

Darius re-seated himself by the wall.

"Now which plague would that be," Edward sounded suddenly bored as if he had seen it all already and there was nothing new.

"THE plague," Eleanor shivered. Then she walked over to replace her boots and re-don her coat, doublet and hat. She picked up the sword. She did not want to talk about the plague. She did not want to remember the plague! She opened her coin purse and tossed the rune stone into the middle of the floor.

"I am out of this game, and I am leaving, now! You three compete for the prize!" And with that, she left without a backward glance. She did not want to recall the plague!

***

__

The following morning, Eleanor carefully tiptoed through the church and peeked down into the open crypt. Darius was there... cleaning up after last evening's frivolity. She was dressed once more as a woman... a healer and midwife to the poor in the area. She lifted slightly the full grey skirt and peered out from beneath the wimple that was the style of the day for midwives and gentleladies.

He looked up at her and shook his head, then righted one of the small stools that had been casually tossed in a corner. "I expected you hours ago," he murmured.

"I am sorry... I needed to check on some of my charges before..." she shrugged, then offered her apology. "I did not mean to tell them about the mead. I was drunk and it just slipped out. Before I knew what was happening..."

"You would think after all this time you would know better than to get caught up in their escapades." His voice was stern, but she caught the barest hint of humor in it and then as he turned Eleanor thought she saw his elusive smile.

"Well... " she said meekly, beginning to descend the stairs, "we only do this once a century... give or take a few years. And Phillip says it is a counterpoint to the "Sturm und Drang" that is often our lives."

"Phillip would not know "Sturm und Drang" if it attacked him. He never has. At least not in the over fifteen hundred years I have known him."

By this time Eleanor had reached the floor of the crypt and joined her friend in setting things to rights. She reached down to pick up a tossed cup and carefully placed it on the shelf with the others. She glanced at the stub of candle, then she smiled.

"You meant for me to tell them. That is why you showed me the mead and gave me just a taste of it last month, when I told you I had heard from them." She faced him and crossed her arms. "You knew! You had three casks ready and four mugs, you had candles lit... you planned this. Why you old faker! I should have seen through you last night."

Darius shrugged and smiled but said nothing. He picked up one of the empty casks and tossed it to her. "Will you be helping me to gather fresh honey?"

She deftly caught the cask and nodded, "But you did... you keep refusing to come with us all these years, but you figured out a way to rejoin the party... on your own terms... even if for only a single night."

"Perhaps." He picked up the two remaining casks and started toward the stone stairs to the church.

Something else suddenly occurred to Eleanor. "Who won the prize after I left... who has the rune stone?" But Darius said nothing as he climbed the stairs.

"You are like that old spider in the web over there," she called after him, "You sit here and weave your web and catch us all in the threads of your plans. One day you will pounce and that will be the end of us all."

"You are entirely too imaginative Eleanor... such things you say! Now come on, I need to close the crypt."

"I could fight them you know... I probably could not beat either of them... but I could fight them. If they challenged me I could defend myself. But you... against you I have no defenses. I am already caught in the web."

Darius laughed as he disappeared into the church, "Are you coming?"

Eleanor spared a remaining glance at the old spider, "Keep your secrets old one... someday I will figure out all the answers." Then she followed Darius up the stairs and into the church.


	7. Absent Friends

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Chapter Seven

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Absent Friends

Niebos 2003

Subdued, the immortals retreated from the rising tide and headed left around the shore to return to the village and the villa.

"You know," Phillip commented, "it was taking this pathway in here that set my remaining in this place into action."

"Not this story again..." groaned Methos.

Eleanor laughed and splashed some of the tidewater onto Phillip. "You do tend to go on and on about those days sometimes."

"Well... sometimes the oldest memories are the best ones... sometimes in them are the greatest truths. And sometimes..." he suddenly threw back his head and laughed, "they are the only ones we clearly remember."

"Speak for yourself!" Methos growled mockingly. But even his mood had lightened. He winked at Eleanor and smiled. For all three of them, the journey to the cove had, as Phillip had hoped, lightened each of their burdens a little.

"Now we can party tonight and hoist a tall one for all our absent friends!" Phillip suddenly called out and began to trot ahead of them with a lighter step than he had had since Eleanor had arrived. Perhaps he had needed her here after all.

***

Phillip's joy was evident in their dinner that night. He had dismissed his servants early and cooked the food himself, as he once had always done. "I should have been a chef in one life," he said twirling his knives expertly in his hands and making precise cuts in the meat and expertly chopping vegetables. "Yes... perhaps I should have been a chef!"

"A chef, whose specialty is fire-roasted game and stolen produce," smirked Methos and ducked as Phillip flicked onions at him with his knife.

Sitting atop a nearby counter, Eleanor watched the playful banter of her friends and realized it was no longer the forced geniality of last night. Phillip's enthusiasm seemed more genuine and Methos... well her old teacher had dropped that icy exterior and really did seem to her to be loosening up a bit. She crossed her legs and took a sip of some of Phillip's wine.

"Did you make the wine, too?"

"Of course... did I ever tell you I was a priest of Bacchus once?" He returned to his preparations. Some Greek music played on the sound system in the background.

"First time we three were together," she said with a smile, "but tell me again anyway. Besides, you never told me all the tales. There were some things you left out..."

So Phillip launched into tales of wine... orgies... and parties to rival even theirs.

After dinner, Methos and Eleanor helped with the cleanup before retiring with their host to the terrace. Once more, Eleanor curled up on the chaise so she could more easily observe the others in their light-hearted arguments about everything... everything, but what they really wanted to discuss.

Finally, it was Eleanor that brought it up. "To absent friends...!" she raised her wineglass soberly. The others followed suit... then one by one they gave the names of all the immortal friends they once had had... complete with stories. Friends who were dead... friends who were no longer friends... enemies who had become a part of them... They named them all... especially those whose memories they held within. Eleanor contributed hers... "For O ro' dred who searched for death but found love... for Nin who gave her life for that love... for Kritis who gave his life for the future... for Kae Dhun..." her voice faltered. "For Kae Dhun whose rage taught me patience and strength." But that was as far as she could go. The one she most needed to acknowledge... she still couldn't. Not yet... not yet!

Her friends had closure... she had only the same emptiness she had had for ten years. Her answers lay further back.

Later she went to bed, still lost in memory. And, as Phillip had said on the return journey... "_Sometimes it is in our oldest memories where we find the truth_."

****

Chapter 7A

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After Darkness, Comes the Dawn

Paris 1348

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Black smoke from the funeral pyres blocked out the sun as surely as if it were night. To Eleanor, there seemed to be no end to them. Added to the stench of the rotting corpses and the sickening odor of charred flesh from the pyres, throughout the city was the filth of un-swept garbage, the overflow of the Paris sewer from too many blocked drains and the rats... everywhere there were the rats.

They gnawed at the dead and ran brazenly over the feet of the living. They had no fear, as if they were the immortals who would live forever. Glancing around her at the heap of bodies already piled at the church steps awaiting pickup, Eleanor could well believe the world was ending.

Soon there would be no one left but the few immortals that were themselves immune to this Black Death and the rats. If the Game continued... it would be the rats that would inherit the earth. She shuddered at the thought.

Behind her, Darius slowly approached. They did not age, these immortals, but both of them felt as though they had aged a thousand years in the past few months since the plague had begun. And there was no end in sight. There was only death, disease and despair.

Eleanor shuddered once more... so close to weeping she thought that if she started, she would never stop. Right now, the dying needed her, and there were so many of them. If she lost her composure for even a moment, how many would die in despair, without her there to ease their passing.

"Eleanor... perhaps you should rest." As always, Darius knew what to say. He always knew just what it was she needed to hear. "You will be no good to any of them unless you rest."

"Will it never end?"

"I have seen plague before, although never so deadly. It will end, and the world will go on as if this pestilence never was. In years to come, we alone will remember how truly horrible it was. We will remember through all our long years."

All about them lay the bodies of the dead and the dying. A few people, who were not yet so very sick, helped... but for the most part... it was up to the two of them. And there were no medicines... no magic cure... no old knowledge that would help ease the suffering of the mortals of this world. There were only the two of them... immune to its deadly effects... caught in the moment and doomed to relive it forever.

Eleanor could no longer bear it. She covered her eyes with her hands and wept for all the children, for all the parents, for all the lovers, and for all the brothers and sisters of this world whom she could not help. But most of all, she wept for herself and for Darius who would remain caught as they were for all time.

Her shoulders shook and she was so very, very tired. She thought she would never see the sunshine, or feel a soft spring breeze, or smell new mown hay again. The world had become a dull colorless blob of gray. There was no tomorrow.

"Eleanor," Darius whispered. "Even the darkest night can be defeated by the lighting of a single candle. We who have such long lives must be that candle for all who are lost in despair."

Slowly, Darius put his arm about her shoulders in comfort. She trusted him, probably more than she trusted anyone. He had become the strong moral center of her being. He was her rock... the eye of the storm. She turned toward him and finally let all the despair she was feeling flow into her tears and she sobbed fully and completely.

Darius held her, as he would any grieving child. He kissed her forehead and murmured in her ear, "Rest, and find peace." He led her over to some wooden benches stacked against the wall and the two of them sat down on one. He continued to hold her. She lay within his gentle embrace seeking the peace that had somehow always eluded her. Finally she slept.

When morning came, there were still funeral pyres and the stench of the dead. There was still the tolling of the hand bells calling for the dead to be brought out. There was still the dying who moaned about them on the church floor. And they were still there... sitting on the wooden bench against the wall... their moment of respite was over.

With a deep sigh, both immortals rose and returned to their task at hand... easing the passage of the dying into a world they themselves would most likely never see. Yet the night's rest had given both of them, if not a lighter step, then at least a surer one.

Eventually, the plague would end. The sick would get better. The dead would vanish from sight. The sun would shine once more on a world filled with flowers and bright blue skies and the sounds of children's laughter. Yes, the world would go on and so would they. But they would never forget... they would always remember.

***

****

Chapter 7B

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Behind the Mask

Paris 1250

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Eleanor threw herself into the dance. All about her the gypsy band clapped and stomped in appreciation of her movements. Perhaps when the Feast of Fools was over, she would leave Paris with them... it was time to see other parts of Europe... she had likely been in Paris too long.

But the cathedral was complete! She had seen it through to the end. Edward had told her it would be a great thing to observe. Well she had done it. Now it was time to move on.

Whatever tune they played... she danced in jubilation... joy without words... and laughed until she could laugh no more. With one last outburst... she stepped the final two steps of the dance as the music rose to its climax. She bowed, tossing her black hair, loose on her shoulders for a change... and bedecked with ribbons. She had adopted the gypsy dress for the Feast of Fools... her face hidden behind the half mask with its feathers. No one would know who she was... she had never danced in public here... but she wanted her dance to be a part of this grand celebration!

Even as she bowed, she felt the presence of another. Careful to betray no sign that she was the immortal the other must also feel, she twirled once more about the bonfire, her smiling green eyes taking in the faces of those on the edges of the fire-lit square. In the shadows off to one side, casually leaning against a wall with his arms crossed was a form she thought she recognized. Her eyes took in his peasant's garb and the mask that covered his face. She couldn't be certain...

"Ah Marie... you dance with such abandon." Rudolpho, the gypsy leader laughed. "You make us all glad..." Laughter erupted from several of the others.

Eleanor turned to Rudolpho and smiled, "Then I will dance the night away... play on good friends... play on." She grabbed the hands of Anna, Rudolpho's wife and swung her into the dance with her. Once more she stepped to the music... trying desperately to teach someone else the steps that came so easily to her. But Anna could not manage it... she slapped her hands over her chest and laughed... so out of breath she began to cough.

"I cannot do this dance!"

Eleanor flung her arms about the woman and leaned into her whispering, "Who is that one over against the wall? I have not seen him here before."

Anna glanced over to where the peasant was standing, her eyes widened. "We are blessed this night. For it is likely Fre're Jacques."

"Who?"

"'Tis said he was a worker on the cathedral. No one knows quite who he is. But he works by day and by night it is said he wanders all of Paris, seeking the worthy to whom he can give his day's wages or food or comfort. 'Tis said to see him is to know he considers you worthy."

Eleanor grinned. "Then I will ask him to dance." Coyly, swinging her short gypsy skirt ever so slightly Eleanor walked over to Fre're Jacques and smiled.

He did not move... but she thought she could see amusement in the familiar eyes that peered out from the mask.

She held out one hand as the music began again.

He shook his head... but she was not to be denied. She grasped on to his hands and pulled him into the light of the bonfire and began to dance about him.

Around her, the others joined in their urging of the dance. Their clapping rose with the beat. Finally he began to step with her... awkwardly and a bit uncertain... but he knew the steps. She was certain of it. The longer the dance went on... the more at ease in it he became. Finally as the music ended, she was close against him. She smiled at him behind her own mask, fully trusting the next move to him.

He leaned down and kissed her... Eleanor almost gasped at the intensity of that kiss! She felt herself surrender to the passion of the moment. His arms went about her as the intensity heightened. She felt herself lifted up slightly into the air and then set carefully down once more. Then he stepped back, turned and vanished into the crowd.

Rudolpho grabbed her. "You have his love child... you have his heart!" He spun her about and the music began again. All Eleanor wanted to do was follow the retreating figure... but he was already lost to her in the crowd.

"She has had a kiss from Fre're Jacques!" someone cried out... La belle Marie has had a kiss!" And the crowd clapped and the music soared, and Eleanor felt that her heart would break if she could not follow him then and there.

***

At the hospital the following morning, Darius was already moving among the last of the patients. Soon they would close this facility down and he would be spending more time at the recently completed parish on the other side of the Seine.

Eleanor watched him a long time. Her feelings still in turmoil. What exactly had happened last night? If it were him... Why did he leave? Even more... why had he been there? Darius looked up at her and smiled. But there was no sign of any of what she thought she had seen in the crowd last night.

"You are late this morning, " he chided her gently, but she could here some amusement in his voice. He was teasing her.

"The party went on most of the night."

"So I gather."

Eleanor sat watching him scrub down some planks. Finally she ventured, "Did you attend?"

"Why would I attend?"

"I just thought you might have been there... I felt one of us in the crowd."

"Hmmm..." He continued his task without a moment's hesitation.

"I think I am in love... is that a sin?" she finally asked.

"Love is never a sin... it just is." He glanced up at her but again... there was nothing in his face that admitted to her that it had been him the night before. Then he shrugged and smiled that little mysterious smile of his and she knew.

Eleanor sat back on the bench... perhaps there was a reason to remain in Paris after all... perhaps. After all... even if there was the reality of day... there was still the mystery of the night... and there was the Feast of Fools every year. He might not always vanish into the crowd. She smiled at him and then rose to see to some of the patients.


	8. Left Behind

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Chapter Eight

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Left Behind

Niebos, Greece, 2003

The early morning sun shone brightly through the windows and into her bedroom and a gentle breeze blew through the gauzy curtains that hung over them. Eleanor stretched and rose to stand looking out at the remarkable view. It was going to be another beautiful day. 

Within the villa she could sense Methos and Phillip in their respective rooms. They were still asleep and likely would be so for some time. It had always been she who rose at the dawn that last morning they were together. She would gather the wood and tend the fire and the animals if they had any, and wait for her friends. This time there were no animals needing her attention, and no wood to gather or fire to tend. She had nothing to do but wait. But it was too glorious a day to wait inside.

She dressed quickly, pulling on the pale green linen dress she had been wearing the first day she had arrived. It was a little wrinkled, but otherwise would do fine. She slipped into her soft flats, grabbed the straw hat and wandered out of the villa and down to the village.

All about her, the villagers called greetings as they moved through their familiar daily routines. They knew she was one of Phillip's guests and respected her need to be alone. At the end of the main street, she saw the small white washed church, and beside it the cemetery.

Eleanor paused. She would likely always be uneasy on holy ground. Every bad thing that had ever happened to her in her long life had seemed to happen on or near holy ground. It was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be a sanctuary where her kind could meet in peace. Yet for her, it had never been... not really.

She paused at the cemetery gate for a long moment, then opened it with a purposeful movement and slowly stepped inside. Within her, she could sense Nin stirring. The ancient seldom spoke any more than she had in her long life, but Eleanor sometimes seemed to understand what the ancient was feeling. And right now... it was as if she had suddenly sat up to take notice of where Eleanor was. 

Within her mind, Eleanor could see the standing stones of Nin's long-dead people. No... not Nin's... the standing stones were there first. Eleanor let the ancient's memory play across her mind. Nin sitting in the center of the stones, wailing for the last of her tribe. They were all dead... and only she was left behind to mourn their passing and remember their lives. Nin had to become the living monument to their passing so that they would always be remembered.

O ro' dred's voice came next, coaxing Nin to come and rejoin life. The two of them together for all time, not just for a thousand years... but always together wrapped in the memories held in Eleanor's mind.

For a moment Kae Dhun reared his head and struggled... but Kritis pulled him down again with a hearty laugh. "_Sacrifice makes us powerful_," Kritis said within her mind. "_I will hold him. I will hold him always. He will never be free until his rage is spent._"

And lastly came Aja, the Lady of her childhood. "_All that lives must die and fade away, my child. Change is inevitable. It is the one constant of this world. Accept the change and move on_."

Eleanor fell to her knees in the small cemetery fighting back tears. "But it's not fair... it's not fair. We never had a chance... we never had a life. He should have been safe... he should have been safe. I don't even have a grave to visit or a memory of his within me."

"_Life is not fair, child... it has never been fair... and you have all the memories you need_."

"Oh be silent all of you!" Eleanor screamed at them... and they were. In the silence that followed, she finally wept until she could weep no more... finally shedding the tears she had denied herself for so long. When she was exhausted, she wiped them from her face, and rose to look about the cemetery.

Her interest was caught by a family plot, surrounded by an iron grill fence and shaded by a tall cypress tree. There beside Vincenzo's and just below Luigi's was Carlo's grave. "Carlo...Beloved Companion... Dearest Friend... 1957-2003... And I Alone am Left Behind".

Eleanor smiled at her memories of Phillip's friend. In her mind she could see him painting away at some canvas or sketching his absurd cartoons of them and finally she could imagine him painting those final murals for the walls of the villa. He'd had a rare gift... and he had made Phillip happier than the gregarious Greek had been in the over eleven hundred years she had known him.

And it seemed to her, that Phillip's memories of Carlo continued to make him happy and at peace.

But Carlo was mortal and mortals die. That was always to be expected. She knew... she had lost her share. But... Darius was not supposed to have died!

Once again she seemed to softly hear Aja, "_Everything... everyone dies Eleanor... all that is passes away, even we immortals in our time. It was his time... it was his choice... he made it long before he ever met you. You cannot change the past... you cannot make it not so... to do so negates his sacrifice... and sacrifice is a powerful thing. Do not belittle it. Move on. Remember him as he was and move on_."

Eleanor moved back to lean against the cemetery wall and remembered.

Chapter 8A

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To Everything a Purpose

Paris, 1165

__

Eleanor wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of one hand and concentrated on the moaning woman before her. She glanced over at Darius and nodded. "It won't be long now. The child is coming." 

Normally, they would not be delivering a baby here at this makeshift hospital in the shadow of Notre Dame's construction, but the woman had come to visit her injured husband and had gone into active labor during the visit. At least it seemed a normal delivery. Eleanor had delivered many babies over her past three hundred years... but never on so short a notice. And this was the first one she had delivered here in this city.

"Well," she thought, "babies come into this world in their own time." Then she resumed her directions to the woman and kept up her calm murmuring. Beside them, Darius wiped the woman's head with a damp cloth and smiled encouragement.

Finally with a loud scream, the woman rose slightly and pushed the newborn into the world to be caught by Eleanor's waiting arms. Deftly she turned the baby and spanked it. The first cry of the infant was met by applause from those around them... the others at the hospital... patients and their families alike. New life was always welcome.

Afterwards, once the baby and his mother were resting, Eleanor sat on a small bench in the late afternoon sun. She was tired and the day had been a long and hectic one. Every day here was. There was so much that needed to be done. The injured kept arriving... their sometimes grieving families kept arriving... it was a never-ending struggle just to keep up some days.

A hand rested on her shoulder. She glanced up as Darius offered her some water. She took it gratefully and sipped at it. It had taken a while for to get used to the nearness of his presence. At last she no longer stiffened or pulled away if he inadvertently touched her. She was beginning to trust him a little. The priest sat down beside her. "You did that very well."

"Oh... that one was easy." Eleanor leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

"You are tired... you should go home to rest." 

"Home..." Eleanor thought of her home in the far north... green fields and beehives and pastures of wheat and barley. She thought of running horses and laughing children and... "I would love to go home someday."

"I meant for today. You are weary. We have been very busy this day but work on the cathedral has stopped and I, and the others, can carry on for the evening."

Eleanor opened her eyes and looked over at Darius. "Do you ever sleep?"

He shrugged and smiled in a motion, which was becoming as familiar to her as breathing. "Sometimes."

She laughed. "I think I will if you really do not need me this evening." She was becoming very comfortable in his presence. His words always seemed to hit their mark with her. They were always just exactly what she needed to hear. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Know just what to say..."

"Ahh... after a thousand years, one learns to listen... people will generally tell you exactly what they need... even if they do not know what that is... all you have to do is be observant."

Eleanor shook her head. "I still cannot fathom that you are over a thousand years old. I have never met anyone who claimed to be so old." She knew Phillip and Edward were older than her paltry three hundred years, but they had never given her their ages. There were no other immortals with whom she had spent so much time. "It is hard to conceive that any of us could live so long."

"All things are possible."

Eleanor suddenly turned to him with an impish grin, "I wish I had known you before you became a priest."

"Ahh... Eleanor... I am afraid you would not have liked me very much. But... that is a tale for another day. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, I shall begin showing you how to listen and observe people so that you too can read them and know what it is that they need. You do it anyway, but you are not always aware of it. I will show you how to be more aware... of just what it is that the people around you need." And with that, Darius rose with a smile and returned to his patients.

Eleanor sat for a moment longer in the waning sunshine... then rose to go home.

***

****

Chapter 8B

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To Embrace the Future 

****

Paris 1164

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The day Aella first reached Paris was rain-soaked and cloudy. Huge dark thunderclouds had covered the sky all day long. Sounds of thunder had punctuated the voices she heard around her. Already she understood much of this French language she heard. Her ease of learning and understanding new languages swiftly was often of great use, especially when she came to a new land.

When she had left Edward and Phillip, she had returned to her rooms in Stuttgart and proceeded to erase the wild child she had seemed while with them in the Black Forest and reinvent the person she would be for this next life. She ordered a bath, washed her long dark hair and soaked in the water until it was almost cold.

As she soaked, she smiled at the memory of being again with Edward or Antoninus or whoever he truly was. She had been surprised to see him...indeed... she had been surprised that Phillip knew him. It had startled her at first. 

Somehow she had always thought that when next she saw her former husband she would be a little more presentable... a little more in control of the situation. Yet he too had seemed startled. Yes, it had been nice to trust him just a little that first night... and her wild appearance had not seemed to cause him worry or confusion. He had simply accepted her. And after that first night... well perhaps they could become friends over the years... perhaps. That is if she could ever truly trust him... if he could ever trust her. She smiled at the thought of him in her arms once more... she could still feel his kisses and could almost smell him... even now.

Aella was not certain why Edward had suggested Paris, but when the voice in her head had whispered for her to choose this place as her next life... she had agreed. Her voice seldom led her in wrong directions. She sometimes disagreed with what it wanted... but it was, as always, her choice. Something or someone wanted her to see or meet what was in this place. So she had come and she would see this great cathedral being built and see just what it was that had made her friends so certain that it was here that she needed to be.

A shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds where Aella was standing just as she came upon the construction of the cathedral. It was as Edward had said it would be... a marvelous site. It was going to be magnificent! It was going to be larger than anything she had ever seen! The sunlight hitting her at that moment had been a warm and welcome friend. It was as though the city itself were opening its arms to her and welcoming her into this life.

It was at that moment that she felt the presence of another immortal. Aella did not overtly react. She slowly pulled her cloak about her as though in a great chill but her left hand reached inside to adjust the grip of her short sword... just in case. Slowly she had looked about her... casually... as if only observing the crowd.

Her eyes fell on the form of a priest who had stood up and was staring at her. "A priest?" Aella arched an eyebrow..."I guess it takes all kinds." She could not imagine how an immortal could be a priest... and she certainly did not just accept that he was as he appeared. He nodded in her direction slightly, then returned to caring for the laborer supine on the ground.

Intrigued, Aella continued to watch the construction for a time, aware only from the corner of her eye that this immortal was also ignoring her... or perhaps waiting for her to make the first move.

Cries broke out suddenly from the scaffolding about one of the towers! A workman had lost his footing and was dangling from the edge. His grip loosened even as his companions tried to hoist him up. With a loud cry, he fell all the way to the ground and lay in a crumpled heap.

Aella was even then on her way. She was not certain if she could help, her skills lay in other areas, but she had learned many old healing ways over the centuries. Perhaps she could do something... at least offer the man calm as he died. The immortal priest was also running to the fallen worker.

They reached him together at almost the same time.

"He is still alive," the other one said, "but he cannot be moved... not yet."

Aella dropped to her knees and held the man's head in her hands. She gazed deeply into his pain-filled eyes and whispered, "Sleep for a while... you are safe... we will take care of you." The worker's eyes calmed as he focused on the sound of her quiet voice. Finally he did close his eyes and seemed to rest.

The priest listened to the man's heart and then called for planks so they could gently move him out of the way of the construction. Aella followed the party closely as they carried him to near where the priest had been earlier and set the injured man down. If he awoke in pain, he would need her. But he seemed to remain asleep.

"You have a rare gift... please stay, I could use some help with him." The priest regarded her for a long moment as she hesitated. "I am Darius," he said and offered a slight smile and a gentle shrug.

Aella removed the bag she had slung over her shoulder and squatted down by the man's head. She did want to stay... she did want to help. And she sensed, on some level she could trust this immortal... at least here in this crowd of workmen and others. Within her, the voice agreed. "Was this who she was supposed to meet in this place?" she asked it. The voice was silent.

Darius busied himself with the man's broken limbs and set them. When he pulled on the worst one to get it into shape, the man's eyes flickered open and he groaned. Immediately Aella leaned down to him and whispered again... calmly he closed his eyes with a great sigh. She stroked the side of his face and blew into his eyes gently.

As he placed splints on the injured man's legs, Darius smiled at her. "If not for your help, I fear he might have struggled and then he would have been beyond what skills I have."

Aella nodded. She offered no words to this immortal... she betrayed nothing of herself to him... already he likely knew too much. She glanced at the worker... yet how could she not have helped. Finally Darius motioned to some of the others and they lifted the planks and carried the man away.

"I have a small hospital set up nearby for the ones who are severely injured. I always have need of healers to help. Every day there are more and more." He gathered up his supplies and repacked them into a small case. "I am only one man, after all."

Aella retrieved her bag and stood to leave.

"I would be pleased if you could assist me some," the priest continued... "Perhaps tomorrow... once you are settled?"

"Perhaps..." Aella nodded at him and turned to take her leave.

"What do I call you..." His voice was gentle... there was no insistence in it... yes... he would have to call her something if she did come to help tomorrow.

"I am unfamiliar with the language here and do not know the names that are used. Pick one you think is appropriate and you can call me that when I am here." she said in her most formal Latin.

The priest stood calmly and placed his hands inside the sleeves of his monk's robe... "Perhaps you should be Eleanor."

Aella started and narrowed her eyes. Had Edward told him to expect her? No... Edward had seemed as surprised to see her when they had met, as she had been to see him. Edward could not have known she would come here. Still... She shook her head and felt the familiar motion of her long braid swaying behind her, "Why Eleanor? ... What does it mean?"

"Oh," replied Darius, "when I first saw you earlier the sun was shining on you. The shaft of light glittered on you and you seemed bathed in sunshine. I was surprised... for the sun has not broken through the clouds all this day. Even now," he gestured about the sky, "it has already clouded back over. Eleanor... it means 'light'."

Aella nodded thoughtfully, "Eleanor... I like it. Then for you I will always be Eleanor." She threw him an impish smile before she turned away to find lodgings for her stay in Paris. She might like it here after all... perhaps she had made a new friend... one she could trust in years to come... perhaps.


	9. Peace at Last

****

Chapter Nine

__

Peace at Last

Niebos, Greece, 2003

Eleanor leaned against the wall and slowly wiped one stray tear away. If she were honest with herself, truly honest... then she had to close this book and move on as Aja had whispered to her many times over the years. Yes, it was time to move on. Darius had been so much a part of her life for so long. While she still felt lost without his comforting presence, she had to move on and make a new life for herself.

She took a deep ragged breath and smiled at the memory of that first meeting. Even then, he had seemed to have all the answers she would ever need. Until now... she had been unable to properly grieve for him. Until now... she hadn't really been able to accept his loss and move on. Had she clung to Derrick for the last few years trying to see in him something of that which was lost?

Behind her she sensed one of her friends, and by the even measured tread she heard, knew it was Methos.

"Are you all right out here?" he murmured, coming up to stand next to her.

"I'm fine... really," she looked at his concerned expression and smiled, nodding her head gently. "For the first time in ten years... I really do think I'm fine." She reached up to brush away an imaginary piece of lint from his immaculate shirt. Her eyes took in his clothes... blue silk shirt, khaki trousers, and then she saw the black overnight bag over his shoulder. "You're leaving then." It was a statement... not a question.

"On the morning ferry, " he nodded and shifted the bag slightly; a slight teasing smile played on his lips... "I could stay awhile and take the afternoon one, if you like."

"No... I don't think so. Not today anyway. Why the hurry 'tho? Pressing engagement?" she laughed, comfortable at last in their friendly banter. Perhaps they could get together another time... another place.

He chuckled, "Well my Watchers go a little paranoid when I vanish on them for a few days. I need to get back before they put out a 'World-wide Alert'." They both laughed... it felt good to really laugh again.

"Walk with me down to the wharf." He held out his hand. Eleanor put her small one into his large one and swinging hands they walked down the main street to the docks. It really was a beautiful day. Above them the blazing morning sun shown in a sky so blue it seemed made of some plastic toy. Before them... the Aegean Sea was it's calm turquoise. In the distance, Eleanor could make out the distant shape of the ferry.

About them, the villagers called greetings to the immortal couple, and the children ran up and down the street, as all children sometimes do, totally oblivious of the grownups in their world. Laughter surrounded them.

Once they reached the docks, they stood quietly holding that one hand as they watched the ferry's approach.

"Are you staying?" Methos finally asked her.

She nodded, "At least for a while. I've been so much on the run for the past thirty odd years and especially the last ten that I need to be in one place for a time. I need time to just be."

"As with all living things."

"You know..." she looked up at him and smiled warmly, "we never did get to our game this time."

"And that reminds me..." Methos dropped her hand and reached deftly into his shirt pocket to pull out a small drawstring bag. He opened it and dropped the rune stone into his palm. "I want you to have this," he said and placed it into her hand and closed her fingers about it. "I think Darius would want you to keep it."

Eleanor closed her eyes, for the tears were brimming in them again. She sniffed and shuddered slightly. "Until next time...?"

"No... for all time." Methos replied gently.

Eleanor smiled and shook her head. "I suppose you and Phillip..."

"I didn't ask Phillip... but I have no doubt he'd agree. Carlo's death has greatly changed him." Methos continued to hold her hand, gently caressing it with his thumb.

Eleanor shook her head as if to wipe away cobwebs of memory. "So what will we use next time... in a hundred or so years."

Methos laughed over the sound of the ferry's siren as it approached the wharf. "Who is to say any of us will still be here in a hundred years. _'The times they are a changin'_!" he quoted Bob Dylan and dropped her hand to give her a one armed hug as they watched the ferry maneuver.

"Actually..." Eleanor began, "the last time I had this I thought about putting it into a setting and wearing it as a necklace. Then I figured you guys would be mortified."

"That is an excellent idea... in fact..." Methos dug deeply into his pants pocket and pulled something out. He held his fist out to her and smiled. "I want you to have this as well."

Eleanor shook her head. "No... not that... I can't take..."

"Please Eleanor." Methos looked at her soberly and continued gently. "Melt it down and have the setting for the rune stone made from it. That way... you will always have a piece of both of us with you."

Eleanor lifted her other hand and he dropped her wedding ring into her palm. She stared at it for a moment. It was bigger and heavier than she remembered... but it had been almost twelve hundred years since she had even touched it. Carefully she placed the ring into the same hand with the rune stone and gently caressed them both. She smiled... and closed them in a fist that she lifted to her heart.

"Always... and forever... I will treasure these and miss you both..."

Methos leaned down to gently kiss the top of her head, and then he shifted his bag on his shoulder and walked up the gangway to board the waiting ferry. When he reached the rail, he lifted one arm in a long wave. The ferry's siren sounded out a long blast as it got under way.

Eleanor remained standing on the wharf and stared at the departing boat for as long as she could make out his form at the rail. Then she remained until even the ferry had vanished into the distant haze. Behind her she sensed Phillip.

"So he's gone like the wind," Phillip commented and chuckled. "And I like the earth remain."

"And I like the waters of the ocean shall ebb and flow." Eleanor shook her head smiling as Phillip hung one of his arms about her shoulder.

"No... Danae... I mean Aja... was the ocean... you are the light of our lives and always have been. You make our hearts to sing and our souls to dance." He hugged her tightly. "You are way too thin... come along... I've made breakfast... all your favorites... scones, fresh fruit... hot chocolate, I'll even cook up one of my famous omelets if you wish." She laughed with him, and then the immortals made their way back to the villa and home.

***************************

"In your heart, in your soul

May you find peace at last."

__

~from "Full Circle", music and lyrics by Loreena McKennitt

****

Author's Notes

Despite the **_Memento_** feel of this piece, the structure was actually inspired by a comic book I recall from many years ago. In it, Scotty of **_Star Trek_** receives word of the death of an old lover and the story plays out as this one does in two directions. The story of what he does and where he goes after hearing of her death plays out in forward time; his memories and the story of what they had been to one another plays out in reverse time. I always thought that this was a remarkable way to tell a story, but never found quite the right vehicle to try one written in this manner.

When I decided to write the story of Eleanor and Darius, I was faced with a series of vignettes and interactions that led no where. Every story, for it to be a story, requires plot. That is, rising action, a complication, and a resolution. Finally, I recalled this structure and the story began to fall into place.

There were many more vignettes I could have chosen, but decided to choose several that would amplify and take Eleanor through the five stages of grief as first described by Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. Those five stages are (1.) **Denial**, (2.) **Anger** or **Resentment**, (3.) **Bargaining** or **Guilt**, (4.) **Depression** or **Letting Go** and finally, (5.) **Acceptance**. Those stages are in some ways reflected in the path of her memories. Additional information on grief can be located in many books, articles, and on the web.

The task Eleanor has at hand in her visit to Niebos and the journey up the mountain and down to the cove and home illustrates the tasks she has to accomplish in order to move on with her life. She must (1.) **Accept the Reality** of her loss, (2.) **Experience the Pain**, (3.) **Adjust her Life** accordingly, (4.) **Assume Responsibility** for it, and finally (5**.) Focus on New Life**. 

Before anyone asks if I have recently experienced some great grief, the answer is no. My family and circle of friends are intact and well and there are no great un-resolved traumas in my life. I simply wanted to use this motif as an exercise. I do admit to it being quite cathartic, however.

The island of Niebos and the Oracle of Poseidon are my own invention. They exist on no map except the map of fantasy that is the true map of our world. Readers will also note that this story ties up a few of the dangling threads from "Crossroads of Time".

I hope I have not stepped on anyone's toes with my portrait of Darius, the immortal priest and holy man who sacrificed his life in an attempt to bring peace to the world of _Highlander_. I dedicate this to the late Werner Stocker who gave the character life and who left us much too soon. I recall reading that he died before learning that his last roll had inspired many _Highlander_ fans. From what I gather, it still does.

Peace!

****

Historical Afterword

Construction began on the cathedral of _Notre Dame_ in 1163. Work continued on it until about 1250 when it was essentially complete. Guildsmen, craftsmen, and laborers all contributed to its construction as a testament of their faith.

Darius' church is never identified by name within the series (other than being mentioned as St. Joseph's Chapel once) but is the medieval church _St. Julien le-Pauvre_ which was built circa 1170 and is one of the oldest churches still standing in Paris. Near it was supposed to have been a holy well with healing waters, the location of which is unknown. The church was built near the old gates of the original Paris that was situated on the _Isle de la Cite'_ and across the river Seine from Notre Dame. In the fifth century, the _Isle de la Cite_ was the only part of Paris surrounded by a wall. Fans may recall that it was at the gates of Paris that Darius met the ancient Holy Man whose quickening changed him forever. For additional information on the church, see the website called "The Book of Darius" to which several board members pointed me when I asked some questions about the church and about Darius.

The Black Death, _a.k.a._ the bubonic plague, hit Europe in 1347 with a vengeance that wiped out fully one third of the population. The people at that time believed variously that it was a punishment sent by God or that it was sent by the Devil to test their faith. They lashed out at the Jewish population in many areas, believing they had poisoned wells and were spreading the plague. People also began killing off dogs and cats, fearing they were the culprits. Unfortunately, this only made the plague worse. It was a disease that was spread by the fleas that infested rats and humans. Without dogs and cats to keep them in check, the rats' numbers multiplied and the plague persisted.

The Black Death began as black swellings in the lymph regions of the body, which were extremely contagious if others touched open or weeping sores. Later it sometimes became airborne as pneumonic plague. In this form it traveled on the breath of the infected to their caregivers. From that form of the illness, almost no one survived. I have long wondered what it might have been like to have been an immortal, immune to the effects of disease and forced to observe the horrors of it, unable to do more than offer comfort. That chapter was my attempt to put into words the helplessness we all feel when faced with events we cannot change.

The 1634 flashback and modern references to Alexander Dumas' "_Three Musketeers_" are a minor in-joke of mine on the idea that maybe, just maybe... some of the immortals' wild adventures at that time became part of culture in that world and inspired Dumas. Perhaps he too knew Darius?

The same can be said of Victor Hugo and the references to "_Les Miserables_" which was published in 1862 and was an instant run-away best seller! Chalk it up to literary license and Darius telling tales to teach points. Obviously the barricade sequence as well as the sewer sequence were inspired by Hugo's book. As for the throwaway line in the 1862 section about a "young poet"... well that, as they say... is another story.

The French Revolution began in 1789 with the storming of the Bastille but by 1794, the new government led by Robespierre had fallen victim to its excesses. A new government was set up after Robespierre's execution on the guillotine to which he had sent so many others. By 1799, a general called Napoleon assumed control. His reign finally ended in 1815 after the Battle of Waterloo when Darius met Duncan MacLeod.

The 1832 street insurrections spoken of in "_Les Miserables_" happened. They are the hook for that portion of the story. Students, wanting to change a system that they thought was unfair to the poor, started the revolt hoping the populace would rise up once more and overthrow a corrupt government. They didn't... and many of the students and their followers died.

The story of the disaster at sea of the ocean liner "_Titanic_" is well known. The ship sank in less than two hours on 12 April 1912 after hitting an iceberg. Of the over 2000 people aboard, 1523 died, and 705 were saved. The disaster served to change maritime law and make it mandatory to answer and respond to a mayday or SOS.

The French government capitulated to the Germans in 1940, Paris was also surrendered to occupation at that time, and remained in their hands until liberated by the Allied Forces in 1944. Rumors of Hitler's "Final Solution" were known in Europe, but not generally. French Resistance did help some Jewish children to hide in plain sight under the noses of the Nazi's. Others were smuggled to Switzerland and other areas thought to have been safe. After the war, many of the survivors migrated to Palestine, which was partitioned in 1948 by the United Nations to create the state of Israel. War followed that partition. Even today, violence still rocks that land.

In 1964, the U.S. Congress approved funding to support a war in South East Asia in a place called Vietnam. This was previously a French colony from 1867 until 1954. Most of France's colonies about the world gained independence in 1960.

In 1992, a long-standing and rather brutal civil war broke out once more in Angola. The conflict originally began in the 1970's and continues even today. It was part tribal warfare and part an ideological war between Marxist and democratic led coalitions.

Anyone wishing additional information about these historical references should check out their nearest library or do web research. I do not pretend to know everything and I am certain I have some things wrong. If so, please let me know... French history was never my strong point. But Darius lived in Paris, so it was in Paris that most of the flashbacks had to be set.

Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did finally sharing this tale with someone.

#30#


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